CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(■Monographs) 


ICIMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographies) 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microraproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  da  microraproductions  historiq 


uas 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  techniques  et  bib'iographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibllographically  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 
checked  below. 


CZ 


Coloured  covers  / 
Couverture  de  couleur 


□   Covers  damaged  / 
Couverture  endommagde 

□   Covers  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Couverture  restaur^e  et/ou  pellicul^e 

Cover  title  missing  /  Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps  /  Cartes  g^ographiques  en  couleur 


Fyj   Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)  / 

[71 


Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations  / 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 


I      I   Bound  with  other  material  / 


D 
D 


D 


D 


Reli^  avec  d'autres  documents 

Only  edition  available  / 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion  along 
interior  margin  /  La  reliure  serr^e  peut  causer  de 
I'ombre  ou  de  la  distorsion  le  long  de  la  marge 
int^rieure. 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restorations  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have  been 
omitted  from  filming  /  II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages 
blanches  ajout^es  lors  d'une  restauration 
apparaissent  dans  le  texte,  mais,  lursque  cela  4tait 
possible,  ces  pages  n'ont  pas  6\6  film^es. 

Additional  comments  / 
Commentaires  suppl^mentaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
6\6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  cet  exem- 
plaire qui  sont  peut-6tre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  inoge  reproduite, 
ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modifteation  dans  la  m^tho- 
de  normale  de  filmage  sont  indiqu^s  ci-dessous. 

I     I  Coloured  pages/ Pages  de  couleur 

I I  Pages  damaged  /  Pages  -^ndommagies 


D 


Pages  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Pages  restaur^es  et/ou  pelliculdes 


Q  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed  / 
Pages  d^color^es,  tachet^es  ou  piqu^es 

I         Pages  detached  /  Pages  d6tach6es 

|7    Showthrough / Transparence 

I      j   Quality  of  print  varies  / 


D 
D 


D 


Quality  in^gale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material  / 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppl^mentaire 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata  slips, 
tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to  ensure  the  best 
possible  ir.-.age  /  Les  pages  totalement  ou 
partiellement  obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une 
pelure,  etc.,  ont  6\6  film^es  k  nouveau  de  fa9on  k 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 

Opposing  pages  with  varying  colouration  or 
discolourations  are  filmed  twice  to  ensure  the  best 
possible  image  /  Les  pages  s'opposant  ayar<t  des 
colorations  variables  ou  des  decolorations  sont 
film^es  deux  fois  afin  d'obtenir  la  meilleure  image 
possible. 


Thit  Item  is  f llmtd  at  tht  reduction  ratio  checlced  below  / 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  Uux  de  reduction  indiqu<  ci-deisous. 


lOx 

14x 

18x 

22x 

26x 

30x 

J 

, 

12x 

16x 

20x 

24x 

?Ry 

39» 

Jhm  copy  filmad  h«r«  has  b««n  raproduead  thanks 
to  tha  ganarosity  of: 

University  of  Calgary 


L'axamplaira  film*  fut  raproduit  grica  i  la 
g*n«roslt*  da: 

Univartity  of  Calgary 


Tha  imagas  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
possibia  considaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contcact  spacifications. 

Original  copias  in  printad  papar  covars  ara  filmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  anding  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  illustratad  impraa- 
sion,  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  copias  ara  filmad  baginning  on  tha 
first  paga  with  a  printad  or  illustratad  impras- 
sion.  and  anding  on  tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illustratad  imprassion. 


Th-D  last  racordad  frama  on  aach  microficha 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  ^^imaanlng  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  tha  symbol  ▼  (moaning  "END"), 
whichawar  applias. 

Maps,  platas,  charts,  ate.  may  ba  filmad  at 
diffarant  roduction  ratios.  Thosa  too  largo  to  bo 
antiraly  includad  in  ona  oxposura  ara  filmad 
baginning  in  tha  uppar  laft  hand  cornar.  laft  to 
right  and  top  to  bonom.  as  many  framas  as 
raquirad.  Tha  following  diagrams  illustrata  tha 
mathod: 


Las  imagas  suivantas  ont  itt  raproduites  avac  Is 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tenu  da  la  condition  st 
da  la  nattat*  da  l'axamplaira  film*,  at  an 
conformitO  avac  laa  conditions  du  contrst  da 
filmaga. 

Las  axamplairaa  originaux  dont  la  couvartura  on 
paplar  ast  imprimOa  sont  filmOs  an  commandant 
par  la  pramiar  plat  at  an  tsrminant  soit  par  la 
darniira  paga  qui  comporta  una  emprointa 
d'imprassion  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  la  sacond 
plat,  salon  lo  cas.  Tous  las  autras  axamplairaa 
originaux  sont  fiimis  an  commenpant  par  la 
pramiira  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'impraaaion  ou  d'illustration  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  darni*ra  paga  qui  comporta  una  talla 
amprainta. 

Un  daa  symbolos  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
darni*ra  Imaga  da  chaqua  microficha.  salon  la 
cas:  la  symbols  — »  signifia  "A  SUIVRE  ".  la 
symbolo  ▼  signifia  "FIN". 

Laa  cartas,  planchas.  tablaaux,  etc.,  pauvant  «tra 
filmOs  i  das  taux  da  reduction  diffirants. 
Lorsqua  la  document  ast  trop  grand  pour  itra 
raproduit  an  un  saul  clichO.  il  ast  film*  i  partir 
da  I'angla  supOriaur  gaucha,  da  gaucha  A  droita, 
at  da  haut  an  baa.  an  pranant  la  nombra 
d'imagas  nOcassaira.  Las  diagrammas  suivants 
illuatrant  la  mOthodo. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

MICXOCOPV   RESOIUTION  TEST  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1.0 


I.I 


1^     |25 

■  3.2 


il^ 


u 

IK 


2.2 

illl?.0 

1.8 


^    APPLIED  IIVHGE 


1653  East   Main   Street 

Rochester,    New   York         14609       USA 

(716)   482  -0300-  Phone 

(716)   288-5989  -Tax 


.c.o.-i  .0.0 


(?  o 


u 


sJV   yt^t^OA^^M^i^    llQ^€t^t^ 


'JKi^  a^c<.<>^  ^f^<-t4  '^ o^c^^t^^^y^^ . 


*? 


•«""  B.-i*., 


53  K 


!fig  •;;.•»,. 


-:a«i 


o„t 


THE  ODD  ONE 


FIVE  NOTABLc  BOOKS. 

BY  A  NEW  WRITBK. 


niustnted.     lamo,  cloth  decorated,  90  cents. 

A  little  child.  fMcinated  by  tbc  Monrof  the  Prodlnal  Son. 
whom  the  mltcalU  the  "  Probable  Son."  to  the  means  o< 
helping  aeTcral  wanderer*  to  return  to  the  Pather'a  home. 

"  We  do  not  know  the  author  of  thU  very  ^ouchlnit  tale. 
It  it  equal  to  '  Plihin'  Jimmy '  in  its  way,  while  ai  an  lllua- 
tration  of  the  text, '  A  little  child  shall  lead  them,'  It  ii  the 
moM  pathetic  tale  we  remember  tn  have  seen  .  .  .  Amonif 
the  brightest,  most  charming  and  irresistible  of  .'hilcl- 
creations  in  our  recent  literaiure."— TA*  lnde**ndtnl 
(N.  y.). 

Eric's  GoodNcwi. 
Illustrated.     1  omo,  boards,  30  cents. 

A  ttory  of  the  influence  which  Eric,  a  little  invalid  boy, 
had  upon  the  life  of  a  world-worn  youni;  man  with  whom 
he  became  acquainted  at  a  seaside  resort. 

Teddy's  Button. 

Illustrated,     isino,  cloth  decorated,  50  cents. 

A  button  taken  from  the  coat  of  his  dylnK  soldier  father 
becomes  Teddy's  incentive  to  valiant  deeds  as  a  soldier  of 
Christ. 

"  As  bright  and  interestinir  and  touching  a  story  as  if 
Juliana  Ewlng  or  Laura  Richards  had  written  \%r—Tkt 
Ex'angtlUt. 

The  Odd  One. 

Illustrated.     i3nio,  cloth  decorated,  7;  cents. 

Another  proof  of  this  author's  e.xtraordinary  power  in  the 
ddin:atlon  of  child  character.  Betty  is  the  odd  one  in  a 
family  of  five  little  children-odd  in  both  meanings  of  the 
word  ;  and  th:  friendships  which  she  forms  with  older  peo- 
ple have  some  strange  and  happy  results. 

Dwell  DMpi 

Or,  Hilda  Thorn's  Life  Story. 

Illustrated.     i6mo,  cloth,  7;  cents. 

"This  is  an  intensely  interesting  story.  The  author 
plainly  illustrates  the  possibility  of  magnifying  Christian 
life  and  character  amid  the  whirl  of  gayety  and  pleasure  in 
social  life."— 7"A*  Christian  iHttltigenctr. 


Fleminp'  H.  Revell  G>inpany 

N«w  York,  lis  Fiff^       "..  Chicago,63  Washington  St. 

To  140  and  24a  Yonge  St. 


THE  ODD  ONE 


BY 


THE  AUTHOR  O 


"PROBABLE   SONS,"  "ERIC'S  OOOO  NEWS,"  "TBDOVB 
BUTTON,"  "DWELL  DEEP" 


"TticM  art  thty  which  cam*  out  of  great 
tribulation,  and  havt  waahad  tncir  robas,  and 
mad«  tbam  whit*  in  the  blood  of  tha  Lamb  " 


FLEMING  a  REVELL  COMPANY 
New  Yofk  Chicago  Toronto 


M  DCCC  XCVII 


Copyright,  1897,  by 
Fleming  H.  Revell  Company 


THE  NEW  YORK  TYPB-SETTINC  COMPANY 


THE  CAXTON  PRESS 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   I 

PAGE 

Caged  Birds    


CHAPTER   II 


7 


"Mother  Nature" le 


CHAPTER   III 
Was  it  an  Angel? 2, 

CHAPTER  IV 
Adventures ,2 

CHAPTER  V 
Prince -, 


53 


CHAPTER   VI 
Made  into  a  Couple 

CHAPTER   VII 
Haymaking g, 

CHAPTER  VIII 

God's  Patchwork .71 

5 


Contents 

CHAPTER  IX 

PACB 

BEriY's  Discovery 79 

CHAPTER  X 
A  Little  Messenger ^ 

CHAPTER  XI 
A  Daring  Feat 97 

CHAPTER  XII 
Unclk  Harry's  Friend 107 

CHAPTER  XHI 
"  When  We  Two  Met  !  " "5 

CHAPTER  XIV 
A  Hero's  Death "5 

CHAPTER  XV 

Comforted '34 


CAGED  BIRDS 

It  was  just  four  o'clock  on  a  dull-gray  winter  afternoon. 
The  little  Stuarts'  nursery  looked  the  picture  of  coziness  and 
comfort,  with  the  blazing  fire  that  threw  flickering  lights  over 
the  bright-colored  pictures  on  the  walls,  the  warm  carpet 
under  foot,  and  the  fair,  fresh  faces  of  the  children  gathered 
there. 

Five  of  them  there  were,  and  they  were  alone,  for  the  old 
nurse,  who  had  brought  them  all  up  from  their  infancy,  was 
at  present  absent  from  the  room. 

By  one  of  the  large  square  windows  stood  one  of  the  little 
girls;  she  was  gazing  steadily  out  into  the  fast  darkening 
street  below,  her  chin  resting  on  one  of  the  bars  that  were 
fastened  across  the  lower  p'^rt  of  the  window.  How  the 
children  disliked  those  bars!  Marks  of  little  teeth  were 
plainly  discernible  along  them,  and  no  prisoners  could  have 
tried  more  perseveringly  to  shake  them  from  their  sockets 
than  they  did.  Betty,  who  stood  there  now,  had  received 
great  applause  one  afternoon  when,  after  sundry  twists  and 
turns,  she  had  successfully  thrust  her  little  dark  curly  head 
tlirough  and  was  able  to  have  a  delightfully  clear  view  of  all 
the  passers-by. 

But  the  sequel  was  not  so  pleasant,  for  somehow  or  other 

7 


The  Odd  One 

Betty's  head  would  not  come  in  so  easily  as  it  went  out,  and 
when  n'orse  came  to  the  rescue  with  an  angry  hand,  the  poor 
little  head  was  very  much  bruised  in  consequence,  and  Betty's 
reward  for  such  dexterity  was  an  aching  head  and  dry  bread 
for  tea.  She  was  a  slight,  slim  little  figure  with  big  blue 
eyes  and  long,  black,  curved  lashes  and  eyebrows  which 
made  her  eyes  the  most  beautiful  feature  in  her  face.  Very 
soft,  fine,  curly  hair  surrounded  a  rather  pathetic-looking  little 
face ;  but  her  movements  were  like  quicksilver,  and  though 
all  the  little  Stuarts  were  noted  for  their  mischievous  ways 
and  daring  escapades,  Betty  eclipsed  them  all. 

She  turned  from  the  window  soon  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 
"  He's  coming,"  she  said ;  "  old  Bags  is  coming,  and  it's 
my  turn  to-day." 

There  was  no  response.  Bobby  and  Billy,  the  twins,  little 
lads  only  just  promoted  from  petticoats  to  knickerbockers, 
were  deeply  engrossed  in  one  comer  of  the  room  over  their 
bricks.  Perched  on  the  top  of  a  low  chest  of  drawers  were 
Douglas  and  Molly,  and  their  heaCs  were  in  that  close  prox- 
imity that  told  that  secret  business  was  going  on. 
Betty's  heart  sank  a  Httle. 
•'  Old  Bags  is  coming,"  she  repeated ;  "  don't  you  hear  his 

bell?  " 

"  We're  busy,"  said  Douglas,  looking  up ;  "  we  won't  have 

Bags's  story  to-day." 

"You  promised  yesterday  when  you  put  it  off  that  you 
would  hear  it  to-day.    It  isn't  fair.    I  always  hsten  to  you." 

"  Tell  it  to  the  babies ;  they'll  like  to  hear." 

This  was  adding  insult  to  injury;  and  when  the  twins 
trotted  up  to  the  window,  Betty  turned  a  defiant  back  upon 
them,  tears  of  disappointment  dimming  the  blue  eyes. 

"She's  cwying,"   announced   Bobby,  twisting  his  head 
round  to  look  up  into  her  face. 
8 


1 


Cagfcd  Birds 

Betty  turned  round  furiously ;  a  sharp  push  sent  Bobby  to 
the  grourd,  and  in  falling  he  struck  his  hea'1  i  gainst  one  of 
the  feet  of  the  nursery  table.  There  was  a  uowl,  general 
confusion,  and  nurse  appeared  to  discover  and  chastise  the 
offender.  Betty  was  led  o  ;  in  disgrace  to  a  little  room  on 
the  nursery  landing,  known  by  the  children  as  "  Cells."  Their 
uncle,  a  young  captain  in  the  Guards,  had  given  it  that  name, 
but  in  reality  it  was  nurse's  store-room,  and  was  heated  with 
hot  pipes  to  air  the  linen  kept  there.  It  was  a  small,  square 
room  containing  a  table  and  one  chair ;  the  window  was  high 
above  the  children's  reach,  and  locked  cupboards  were  on 
every  side.  Nurse  invariably  used  it  for  punishing  small 
offenses,  and,  being  a  woman  of  stern  principles,  she  generally 
!=et  the  little  culprit  a  text  to  learn  while  there.  A  Bible  was 
on  the  table,  and  Betty  was  led  up  to  it. 

"You  will  stay  here  till  tea-time,  and  will  not  come  out 
mtil  you  have  learned  a  text  and  said  you  are  sorry  for 
krocking  down  your  litde  brother  in  a  fit  of  wicked  temper. 
This  is  the  fourth  time  I  have  had  to  bring  you  here  this 
week,  and  it  is  now  only  Tuesday.  I  have  more  trouble 
with  you  than  all  the  others  put  together,  and  you  ought  to 
be  a-hamed  of  yourself." 

Betty  was  sobbing  bitterly,  and  when  nurse  left  the  room 
and  turned  the  key  behind  her,  the  child  flung  herself  down 
on  the  floor. 

"  It's  a  shame!  It's  all  Douglas  and  Molly;  they  make 
promises  and  don't  keep  them.  And  it  was  ever  so  much 
nicer  a  story  than  Molly's ;  I  know  they'd  have  liked  it  if 
they'd  heard  it.     They  never  think  I  can  do  anything!  " 

To  explain  the  cause  of  Betty's  grievance,  I  must  tell  you 
that  it  was  a  custom  of  the  little  Stuarts  to  await  the  muffin- 
man's  approach  on  his  rounds,  and  as  his  bell  would  sountl 
they  would  take  turns  eacii  day  to  relate  to  the  others  an 

9 


TheO(l<10ne 


account  of  the  different  houses  he  had  gone  to,  and  who 
liad  been  the  fortunate  individuals  to  receive  the  muffins  that 
had  already  disappeared  from  his  tray.  It  was  an  iaic  hour 
in  the  nursery  frc.n  four  to  five,  and  if  the  gathering  -lisk 
kept  the  active  eyes  still  the  fertile  brainS  were  brought  into 
requisition.  Telling  stories  was  a  constant  delight,  and  the 
wonderful  adventures  that  befell  the  muffins  on  their  daily 
rounds  kept  the  little  gathering  quiet  and  happy  till  tea 
appeared. 

Betty's  stories  were  not  inferior  to  her  elders',  and  it  was 
her  childish  sense  of  justice  and  consideration  that  was  out- 
raged. But  tears  will  come  to  an  end,  and  soon  the  little 
maiden  was  perched  up  at  the  table  to  learn  the  task  before 
her.  She  turned  over  the  pages  till  she  reached  Revelation, 
that  mysterious  and  mystical  book  that  so  fascinates  and 
contents  a  child's  soul,  though  the  wisest  on  earth  read  it 
with  perplexity  and  awe.  And  after  a  moment  or  two  Betty 
had  found  a  text  to  learn ;  and  when  nurse  appeared  later 
on  she  repeated  unfalteringly,  with  shining  eyes  and  with  a 
note  of  triumph  in  her  tone,  " '  And  I  said  unto  him.  Sir, 
thou  knowest.  And  he  said  to  me,  these  are  they  which 
came  out  of  great  tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes, 
and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb ' "  (Rev. 

vii.  14). 

"  That's  a  good  child ;  are  you  sorry?  " 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reply,  rath«;r  absently  given ;  for  Betty's 
mind  was  on  the  white-robed  throng,  and  how  could  she  let 
nurse  knov  all  the  workings  of  her  busy  brain  over  the  verse 
she  had  been  taking  into  her  heart  and  soul? 

"  And  remember,"  said  nurse,  gravely,  "  that  no  naughty 
children  who  quarrel  and  fight  will  ever  be  in  heaven." 

"  Not  even  if  they've  been  through  great  tribulation?  " 
quickly  demanded  Betty. 
10 


Caiged  Birds 

But  nurse  did  not  hear,  and  Betty  was  received  into  the 
well-hghted  nureery  with  atxlamation  from  the  others,  al- 
ready seated  at  the  round  tabic  for  tea. 

'•  We've  made  a  new  game,  Molly  and  I,"  announced 
Douglas. 

He  was  a  faif;  curly-headed  boy  ■  -ith  an  innocent  baby 
face,  and  a  talent  for  inventing  thf.  most  mischievous  plans 
that  could  ever  be  concocted,  with  a  will  that  made  all  the 
others  bow  before  him.  Molly  was  also  fair,  with  long  golden 
hair  that  reached  to  her  waist ;  extreme  self-possession  and 
absence  of  all  shyness  A^ere  perhaps  her  chief  characteristics. 
"  I  am  the  eldest  of  the  family,"  she  was  fond  of  asserting, 
and  she  certainly  claimed  the  eldest's  privileges.  Yet  her 
temper  was  sweet  and  obliging,  and  she  could  easily  be 
swayed  and  led  by  those  around  her. 

"Is  it  one  for  outdoors  or  indoors?"  asked  Betty,  with 
interest. 

"  Indoors,  of  course ;  we'll  tell  you  after  tea." 

"  Your  mother  wants  you  in  the  parlor  aft  r  tea,"  put  in 
nurse;  "ycu  and  Mis.  Molly  are  to  go  down." 

Molly  looked  pleased,  not  so  Douglas.  At  last,  putting 
down  his  piece  of  b-c  ^d  and  butter,  he  looked  up  into  nurse's 
face  with  one  of  :.,s  sweetest  looks. 

'"Vhy  are  grown-up  people  so  very  dull,  nurse?  They 
all  are  just  the  same,  except  Uncle  Harry.  They  are  dread- 
fully heavy  and  dull." 

"  They  have  so  little  to  amuse  them,"  Molly  said  reflec- 
tively ;  "  no  games  or  toys.  They  never  make  believe,  or 
pretend  the  lovely  things  we  do." 

"  And  their  legs  get  stiff,  and  their  dresses  trip  them  up 
if  they  try  to  run." 

"But  they  never  get  punished,  and  they're  never  scolded, 
and  they're  never  wicked." 

11 


The  Odd  One 


This  from  Betty. 

"  It's  their  talk  that  U  so  stupid,"  went  on  Douglas ;  they 
look  nice  until  they  begin  to  talk;  they  make  me  dreadfully 
sleepy  to  listen  to  them." 

"  Shall  I  go  down  instead  of  you  to-night?  "  asked  Betty, 

eagerly. 

"  Don't  chatter  such  nonsense.  It's  strange  times  when 
children  begin  to  pick  their  elders  to  pieces.  You  weren't 
asked  for,  Miss  Betty;  and  Master  Douglas  is  to  go  down 
and  behave  himself."  ^^ 

"  The  three  B's  aren't  big  enough  yet  to  leave  the  nursery.' 
Douglas  said  this  with  a  sparkle  of  mischief  in  his  eye.  It 
was  a  sore  poinc  with  Betty  to  be  ranked  with  the  twins,  for 
she  was  only  a  year  behind  Dou"l  -.  Long  ago  he  had 
seized  hold  of  a  laughing  joke  of  hi.  .ather's  alluding  to  the 
names  bv  which  the  three  youngest  children  were  called,  and 
had  twitted  her  with  it  ever  since. 

"  B  for  baby-Baby  Betty,  Baby  Bobby,  and  Baby  Billy; 
babies  must  go  to  bed,"  he  explained. 

Betty  gave  an  angry  kick  under  the  table,  but  did  not 

apeak.  . 

She  was  very  silent  for  the  rest  of  that  evening ;  but  when 
she  and  Molly  were  safely  in  bed,  and  the  room  was  very 


quiet; 


she  asked 


"  Molly,  do  you  know  what  '  tribulation  *  means? 
"I'm  not   sure   that  I   do,"  was   the  hesitating  reply. 
"I  think  it's  something  dreadful.     Why  do  you  want  to 

know?"  ,   •    irr\ 

"  Is  it  like  the  dark  valley  Christian  went  through  in    The 
Pilgrim's  Progress,'  or  the  goblin's  cave  we  make  up  about?  " 
"  I  expect  it  is  something  like.     Why?  " 
"  It's  on  the  way  to  heaven,"  whispered  Betty,  in  an  awe- 
struck tone ;  "  the  Bible  says  so." 
12 


Ilii 


Caged  Birds 

There  was  silence,  then  Molly  said : 

"  There's  a  book  in  father's  library  will  tell  you  about  it. 
It  tells  the  meaning  of  every  word ;  father  said  so.  A  dick- 
something  it  is." 

'  I'll  ask  Mr.  Roper  to  get  it  for  me." 

And  Betty  turned  over  on  her  pillow,  comforted  by  this 
thought,  and  fell  fast  asleep. 

Mr.  Stuart  was  a  member  of  Parliament,  and,  being  a  man 
who  threw  his  whole  soul  into  everything  he  did,  was  too 
much  engrossed  with  business  when  in  town  to  have  much 
to  do  with  his  children.     He  spent  a  great  part  of  his  day 
in  the  library  with  his  secretary,  a  quiet  young  fellow  who 
was  looked  upon  by  the  children  as  an  embodiment  of  wisdom 
and  learning.    Mrs.  Stuart  saw  as  little  of  her  children  as  her 
husband ;  her  time  was  fully  occupied  in  attending  committee 
meetings,  opening  bazaars,  and  superintending  numerous  pet 
projects  for  ennobling  and  raising  the  standard  of  social 
morality  among  the  masses.     She  was  not  an  indifferent 
mother;  she  was  only  an  active,  busy  woman,  who,  after 
carefully  selecting  a  thoroughly  good  and  trustworthy  woman 
as  her  nurse,  left  the  children's  training  with  nerfect  conn- 
dence  to  her.   And  between  her  social  and  charitable  claims 
there  was  not  much  time  for  having  her  little  ones  about  her. 
A  young  governess  came  every  day  for  two  hours  to  teach 
the  three  eldest  ones,  but  their  life  was  essentially  a  nursery 
one.   And  when  tne  House  was  closed,  and  the  husband  and 
wife  would  go  off  to  the  Continent  or  to  the  Highlands,  the 
children  would  be  sent  to  a  quiet  seaside  town  with  their 
nurse  and  the  nursery-maid. 

The  following  afternoon  a  little  figure  stole  quietly  down  to 
the  library  door.  Bettyknewherfatherwasout,and  Mr.  Roper 
never  repulsed  any  of  the  children.  After  a  timid  knock  she 
passed  in,  and  made  a  little  picture  as  she  stood  in  the  fire- 

13 


t  i 


!  i 


The  Odd  One 

light  in  her  brown  velveteen  frock  and  large,  white-frilled 

^'"*VVeU,"  said  Mr.  Roper,  wheeling  round  from  his  writing- 
desk,  "  what  do  you  want,  Betty?  " 

"  I  want  one  of  father's  books,"  the  child  said  earnestly ; 
"one  that  Dick  Somebody  wrote-a  book  that  tells  the 
meaning  of  everything." 

"  I  wish  there  were  such  a  one  m  existence,  said  the 
young  man,  smiling  a  little  sadly.  "  Now  what  is  in  your 
little  head,  I  wonder?  " 

"  It's  a  word  I  want  to  find,  please." 
"  Oh  a  word'      Bless  the  child,  she  means  a  dictionary! 
And  Mr.  Roper  laughed  as  he  drew  a  fat  volume  out  of  a 
shelf  and  placed  it  on  a  table  by  the  little  girl. 
"  May  1  help  you  to  find  it?  " 
"  It's  '  tribulation.'     I  don't  know  how  it  s  spelled. 
He  did  not  ask  questions;  that  was  one  thmg  that  at- 
tracted Betty  toward  him.     She  was  a  curious  mixture  of 
frankness  and  reserve;  she  would  confide  freely  of  her  own 
free  will,  but  if  pressed  by  questions  would  relapse  at  once 
into  silence.    He  found  the  word  for  her.  and  she  read  with 
difficulty,  '"Trouble,  distress,  great  affliction.'" 
"  Do  they  all  mean  tribulation?  "  she  asked. 
"  Tribulation  means  all  of  them,"  was  the  answer.^ 
"  And  can  children  have  tribulation,  Mr.  Roper? ' 
"  What  do  you  think?  "  .  ^         u  »• 

"  I  must  have  it  if  I'm  to  get  to  heaven,"  she  said  emphati- 
cally. And  then  she  left  him,  and  the  young  man  repeated 
her  words  to  himself  with  a  sigh  and  a  smile  as  he  replaced 
the  book  in  its  resting-place. 


14 


ni 


II 


"MOTHER  NATURE." 

A  FEW  evenings  after  this,  as  nurse  was  undressing  the 
little  girls  for  bed,  Mrs.  Stuart  came  into  the  nursery.  She 
was  going  out  to  dinner,  and  looked  very  beautiful  in  her 
soft  satin  dress  and  pearls.  She  was  tall  and  stately,  with 
the  same  golden  hair  as  Molly,  but  her  face  was  somewhat 
cold  in  expression. 

Sitting  down  in  an  easy-chair  by  the  fire,  she  asked  • 
"What  is  the  matter  with  Betty?     Is  she  in  disgrace 
again?  " 

Betty  was  standing  in  her  long  night-dress  at  the  foot  of 
her  small  bed ;  her  hands  were  clenched,  and  there  was  a 
resolute,  determined  look  upon  her  flushed  face. 

"One  of  her  obstinate  fits,"  said  nurse,  angrily;  "she 
generally  goes  to  bed  before  Miss  Molly,  and  because  I  have 
let  her  stay  up  a  little  later  to-night  she  is  as  contrary  as  she 
can  be.  I  can  do  nothing  with  her;  a  good  whipping  is 
wha  she  wants!  " 

Betty's  blue  eyes  wandered  from  nurse's  face  to  her 
mother's,  as  if  .seeking  consolation  there ;  her  hands  relaxed, 
and  a  slight  quiver  came  to  the  little  lips. 

"  Are  you  going  to  a  party,  mother?  May  I  come  and 
kiss  you?  " 

15 


TluCMaOnc 

„  .„  M„ny  who  .pole.    She  -^J^^^'/Jl^n:; 

rctnr ir:\Mr':oL,  .ho„^H  u  .a.  .ao,.uo„ « 

"  *N„Tcom.  her..  B...y.    Wha,  have  you  b«n  doing? 
Ho.  ".  *«  I  never  v»i.  .ha  nunery  .Uhou.  heanng  com- 

A    „«,:nff  Uowlv  forward  into  the  firelight. 
^"' She  hat  Sd  "  say  her  prayers."  said  nurse,  .ten^ly^ 

..fwiH  say  them  now."  And  Betty  raised  her  eyes  to  her 
mother  somewhat  wistfully.  ^  „ 

"  Why  did  you  refuse  to  say  them  when  nurse  told  you  lo 

"  Because  Molly  was  saying  her  prayers. 

•'  Well,  what  had  that  to  do  with  U?  " 

Betty  did  not  answer. 

'TheThildT^Ld  round.    Nurse  had  left  .he  roon.^    She 

\.Vher  «..le  foot  backward  and  forward  in  the  org- 

;td  ruTrIt  nervously,  and  then,  a,n,ost  in  a  -h,>per. 

""God  couldn't  listen  to  both  of  us,  and  I  wanfed  Him  to 

"Cs^a^  gazed  perplexedly  a.  her  lit.le  daughter.  U,en 

'".^vt  are  a  little  goose,     Go  '"X'^y  y^^'Z:'- 
1     .     T  i,»,r/.  rnme  here  to  talk  to  nurse. 

once,  and  get  into  ^^^^  ^^27  ^r.n.cd  laugh  had  hurt 

Betty  crept  away.     Her  motner  s 
her  more  than  nurse's  scoldmgs.     It  was  hard 
16 


''Mother  Natufc'' 


secret  feelings  brought  to  light  and  scoffed  at,  and  her  sen- 
sitive little  soul  felt  this,  though  in  a  dim,  uncertain  way. 

"  I  want  to  have  God  all  to  myself,"  was  her  thought  as, 
a  few  minutes  later,  she  laid  her  little  head  down  on  the 
pillow.  "  I  wonder  if  I'm  very  wicked?  I  won't  say  my 
prayers  if  He  is  not  listening." 

"  Now,  nurse,"  said  Mrs.  Stuart,  as  that  worthy  reappeared, 
"  I  want  to  tall;  to  you.  Mr.  Stuart  and  I  are  going  abroad 
after  Easter;  he  is  not  well,  and  the  doctors  have  ordered 
him  away.  I  want  to  send  you  and  the  children  into  the 
country  for  the  summer.  I  don't  fancy  their  being  at  the 
seaside  all  that  time.  You  were  telling  me  some  time  ago  of 
your  old  home.  Isn't  it  a  brother  of  yours  who  has  the  farm? 
Yes?  Well,  do  you  think  they  have  room  to  take  you  all 
in?  " 

Nurse's  face  glowed  with  pleasure. 

"  He  has  no  chick  or  child,  ma'am,  and  the  house  is  large 
and  roomy ;  his  wife  was  saying  in  a  letter  to  me  they  should 
like  lodgers  in  the  summer.  I'm  sure  .t  woi'H  please  them 
to  take  us  in,  and  the  country  round  there  is  wonderfully 
healthy." 

"  I  think  that  would  answer  very  well,"  Mrs.  Siuart  went 
on  thoughtfully.  "We  may  be  away  six  months;  id  the 
children  are  looking  pale— a  country  life  will  do  thei..  all  the 
good  in  the  world.  Let  them  run  wild,  nurse ;  they  will  come 
back  to  their  lessons  all  the  better  for  it.  Miss  Grant  told 
me  this  morning  she  would  have  to  give  up  teaching— her 
mother  is  verj'  ill ;  so,  all  thing-  -ombined,  I  think  this  plan 
will  work  well.  Will  you  write  to  your  brother  and  find  out 
if  he  can  vake  you  in  the  last  week  in  April?  Let  me  know 
wh€->  you  have  heard  from  him." 

Mrs.  Stuart  rose  as  she  spoke,— her  visits  were  never  long, 
—and  nurse  left  the  room  with  her. 

17 


The  Odd  One 

Betty,"  said  Molly,  in  an  eager  tone,  "did  you  hear? 
We're  going  into  the  country." 

I  heard;  and  no  lessons,  and  we're  to  run  wild;  how 
lovely!  "  Betty's  curly  head  bobbed  up  and  down  in  excite- 
ment, then  she  said  persuasively,  "  Molly,  let  you  and  me 
keep  it  a  secret  together;  we  won't  tell  Douglas  or  the 

twins."  .     .    J       A 

This  required  consideration.     Molly  sat  up  m  bed  and 

looked  thoughtful. 

"  I  never  do  have  a  secret  with  you,"  pleaded  Betty. 
"You  and  Douglas  have  lots.  I  never  have  any  one  to 
have  secrets  with." 

"  Well,  I'll  see,"  and  there  was  a  little  of  the  elder  sister 
in  Molly's  tone.  "  I'll  tell  you  to-morrow  morning.  Oh,  it 
will  be  jolly  in  the  country,  won't  it?  And  nurse's  home, 
that  she  tells  us  about,  is  like  our  story-books:  it's  full  of 
calves,  and  lambs,  and  horses,  and  ducks,  and  chickens,  and 
haymaking,  and  pigs!  " 

"  And  ponds  and  apple-orchards ;  and  we  shall  have  cream 
and  honey  and  strawberries  every  day!  "  continued  Betty. 

The  little  girls'  voices  were  raised  in  their  excitement,  and 
they  did  not  notice  a  door  at  the  end  of  the  room  slowly 

open. 

"  What  a  row!     Are  you  telling  stories?  " 

It  was  Douglas,  who  slept  in  a  little  room  off  the  nursery, 
and  who  had  been  roused  by  the  sound  of  talking. 

"  Hush!  nurse  will  hear.  Come  and  sit  on  my  bed,"  said 
Molly,  "  and  then  you  will  hear  all  about  it." 

"  O  Molly,  it  was  to  be  our  secret!  " 

"  Douglas  won't  tell.  Besides,  nurse  is  sure  to  tell  us ; 
she  knew  we  were  awake  and  listening." 

Betty  gave  a  little  sigh,  then  joined  eagerly  in  giving  her 
brother  the  delightful  information. 
18 


>1 


«  Mother  Nature  " 


He  listened,  rumpling  up  his  fair  curls  and  blinking  his 
blue  eyes,  which  were  already  heavy  with  sleep. 

"  Easter  is  years  off,"  he  said  at  last.  "  Why,  we  are  still 
in  winter.     I  dare  say  we  sha'n't  go,  after  all." 

"  We  are  in  February  now,"  said  Molly,  looking  a  little 
disappointed  at  the  calm  way  he  received  such  rapturous 
news. 

"  If  I  go,"  Douglas  went  on  meditatively,  "I  shall  ask 
father  to  let  me  have  a  gun,  and  I  shall  shoot  rabbits  and 
birds  every  day." 

"  Then  you'd  be  a  wicked,  cruel  boy,"  pronounced  Betty, 
indignantly.  "  I  shall  catch  all  the  rabbits  I  can  see  and 
tame  them." 

"  Then  I  shall  let  them  loose  again,"  retorted  Douglas ; 
and  taking  up  Molly's  pillow,  he  flung  it  with  all  his  strength 
at  Betty,  who  instantly  returned  it,  and  a  pillow  fight  com- 
menced. Molly  joined  delightedly  in  the  fray;  but  alas!  in 
the  height  of  the  excitement,  Betty  backed  into  a  can  of 
water  put  ready  for  their  morning  bath.  Over  she  went, 
head  first,  on  the  floor,  and  the  whole  contents  of  the  can 
flooded  her  and  the  carpet  together.  Douglas  precipitately 
fled  into  his  little  room,  and  Molly  into  her  bed,  so  that 
when  nurse  came  hastily  in  Betty  again  was  discovered  as 
chief  offender.  While  she  was  being  hustled  into  a  dry  night- 
dress nurse  relieved  her  vexed  feelings  by  giving  her  a  good 
scolding,  and  Betty  eventually  crept  into  bed,  wondering  if 
she  was  really  the  "  wickedest,  mischievousest  child  on  earth," 
or  if  grown-up  people  sometimes  made  mistakes. 

For  the  next  few  days  nothing  was  talked  of  but  the  pro- 
posed country  visit ;  but  as  weeks  went  on,  and  spring  seemed 
still  as  far  away,  the  children's  excitement  subsided,  and  the 
ordinary  routine  of  lessons,  walks,  and  play  engrossed  their 
whole  attention. 

19 


The  Odd  One 

But  Easter  came  at  last,  and  then  packing  up  began.  Miss 
Grant  took  her  departure,  and  poor  Sophy,  the  nursery-maid, 
had  her  hands  full  enough,  for  nurse's  command  was  to  keep 
the  children  quiet  and  not  let  them  come  near  her  when 

packing. 

Mr.  Roper  was  leaving  the  library  one  afternoon  about 
four  o'clock,  when  he  saw  the  disconsolate  little  figure  of 
Betty  seated  on  the  steirs. 

"  Anything  the  matter?  "  he  asked  good-naturedly. 
"  We're  going  away  to-morrow,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  it  is 
all  topsy-turvy  upstairs.  Douglas  and  Molly  have  been  lions 
for  hours,  and  Bobby  and  Billy  two  monkeys,  and  I've  been 
the  man.  I'm  tired  of  b-ing  him,  and  they  won't  let  me 
change.  I've  broken  a  jug  and  basin,  and  nearly  pulled  a 
cupboard  over,  and  spilled  a  bottle  of  cod-liver  oil  all  over 
Billy's  hair,  and  upset  nurse's  work-basket,  and  then  I  ran 
away  and  hid  and  came  down  here.  You  don't  know  how 
tiring  it  is  to  be  hunted  by  four  animals  all  at  once." 

Mr.  Roper  sat  down  on  the  stairs  by  her  and  laughed 
heartily.  "Poor  little  hunter!  "  he  said;  "and  how  does 
nurse  bear  all  this  raging  storm  around  her?  " 

"  Oh,  nurse  is  with  mother  in  the  night-nursery.  Sophy  is 
running  after  all  of  us ;  I  don't  know  who  she  pretends  to  be, 
but  when  I  left  her  she  was  sitting  on  the  floor  wiping  Billy's 
hair  and  crying." 

Betty's  tone  and  face  were  grave,  and  Mr.  Roper  stopped 
laughing.  "  Have  you  been  thinking  over  tribulation  any 
more?  "  he  asked. 

Betty  nodded. 

"A  lot,"  she  said  emphatically,  then  shut  up  her  little  lips 
tighdy,  and  Mr.  Roper  knew  he  was  to  be  told  no  more, 

"Are  you  going  into  the  country,  Mr.  Roper?"  he  was 
asked  presently. 


la 


** Mother  Nature** 

"  No,  indeed.     I  am  not  rich  enough  to  have  such  a  holi- 
day as  is  in  prospect  for  you.     I  wonder  what  you  will  do 
with  yourselves  all  the  time?     You  must  come  back  much 
the  better  and  wiser,  Betty,  for  it." 
"  Why?  " 

"  You  will  be  six  months  older,  and  old  Mother  Nature  is 
the  best  governess  for  little  ones  like  you.  She  will  teach 
you  many  a  lesson  if  you  keep  your  eyes  and  ears  open." 
Betty's  eyes  were  very  wide  open  now. 
"  Does  she  live  at  the  farm?  I  never  heard  nurse  speak 
of  her.  We  don't  want  another  governess  there.  How  do 
you  know  her?  " 

"  I  knew  her  when  I  was  a  little  boy,  and  loved  her.  I 
love  her  now,  but  my  work  is  in  London,  and  I  never  get 
much  chance  of  seeing  her." 

"  She  must  be  very  old,"  Betty  said  meditatively. 
"  Very  old ;  and  yet  every  year  she  seems  younger  and 
more  beautiful.    You  will  see  her  at  her  best,  Betty.    I  shall 
expect  you  to  come  home  and  tell  me  all  about  her." 
"Shall  I  give  her  your  love  and  a  kiss  when  I  see  he:?  " 
"  Yes,"  said  the  young  man,  smiling  down  upon  the  earnest 
child  beside  him. 

A  rush  of  feet  behind  them,  and  Molly  and  Douglas  came 
tearing  downstairs. 

"  Here  she  is!  Where  have  you  been?  Bobby  has  cut 
his  head  open,  and  Sophy  has  rushed  to  nurse,  and  nurse  is 
scolding  away,  so  we  came  off.  Mr.  Roper,  do  you  know 
we're  going  away  to-morrow?  " 

"And  will  you  come  and  see  us  one  day,  Mr.  Roper?  " 
"  Mr.  Roper,  does  every  farmer  in  the  country  go  about 
in  his  night-shirt  ?     Douglas  says  they  do,  and  we  have  pic- 
tures of  them." 

"  And  are  there  stags  and  wild  boar  to  hunt?    Do  tell  us." 

21 


The  Odd  One 

Mr.  Roper  made  short  work  of  these  questions  and  de- 
parted. He  was  a  reserved,  reticent  man,  and  did  not  un- 
derstand the  boisterous  spirits  of  the  little  Stuarts.  Betty 
was  his  favorite ;  he  was  always  ready  for  a  chat  with  her, 
but  the  others  worried  him. 

Nuise  was  very  thankful  when  she  got  herself  and  her 
little  charges  all  comfortably  settled  in  the  railway  train  for 
Brook  Farm  the  next  day.  Sophy  was  not  going  with  them, 
but  the  longing  to  be  in  the  old  home  again  quite  compen- 
sated nurse  for  the  additional  labor  and  responsibility  she 

world  have. 

The  children  had  parted  from  their  parents  with  great 
composure.  Mrs.  Stuart  'lad  reiterated  parting  injunctions 
to  nurse,  and  their  father  had  presented  all  five  with  a  bright 
coin  each,  which  gift  greatly  added  to  their  delight  at  going. 

"  Not  much  affection  in  children's  hearts,"  said  Mr.  Stuart 
to  his  wife,  as  he  watched  the  beaming  faces  gathered  round 
the  cab  window  to  wave  "  good-by." 

"  They  will  get  through  life  the  better  for  absence  of  sen- 
timent and  demonsv.  ativeness,"  replied  Mrs.  Stuart ;  and  per- 
haps those  words  were  an  index  to  her  character. 


9'> 


Sii 


Ill 


WAS  IT  AN  ANGEL? 

It  was  a  lovely  afternoon  in  May,  a  week  after  the  chil- 
dren's arrival  at  Brook  Farm.  They  were  together  in  the 
orchard,  which  was  a  mass  of  pink  and  white  bloom.  Bobby 
and  Billy  were  having  a  see-saw  on  a  low  apple-branch, 
Douglas  was  perched  on  a  higher  bough  of  a  cherry-tree,  and 
the  little  girls  were  lying  on  the  ground.  Tongues  were  busy, 
as  usual. 

"  We've  seen  everything  round  the  house,"  Douglas  was 
asserting  in  rather  a  dictatorial  tone ;  "  and  now  we  must  be 
busy  having  adventures— people  always  do  in  the  country." 

"  What  kind?  "  asked  Molly,  meekly. 

"  They  get  tossed  by  bulls,  or  lost  in  the  woods,  or  drowned 
in  ponds,"  Douglas  went  on  thoughtfully. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  do  any  of  those."  And  Betty's  tone 
was  very  determined. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  then  ' 

"  I  shall  be  busy  all  by  myself.    I  ing  out  to  look  for 

some  one." 

Who?"  asked  Molly,  curiuu^y. 

"  Some  one  Mr.  Roper  told  me  about.  He  sent  his  love 
to  her  and  a  kiss.  It's  a  secret  between  me  and  Mr.  Roper ; 
I  sha'n't  tell  you  any  more." 


1 


m 


The  Odd  One 

And  Betty  rolled  over  in  the  grass  v.-ith  a  delighted  chuckle 
at  the  puzzled  faces  round  her. 

"  It's  only  one  of  her  make-ups,"  Douglas  said,  recovering 
his  composure ;  "  let  me  tell  you  of  my  plans.  Do  you  see 
those  thick  trees  at  the  top  of  that  hill?  That's  a  real  wood. 
Now,  if  nurse  sends  us  out  to-morrow  ai.eraoon  while  she 
takes  a  nap,  I'm  going  there,  and  you  girls  must  come  after 
mt 

"  And  us  too,"  put  in  Bobby,  listening  attentively. 

"  if  you  can  walk  so  far,  and  don't  go  telling  nurse  about 
it." 

"  How  far  is  it?  Six  miles?  "  asked  Molly,  who  would 
have  been  willing  to  walk  ten  had  her  brother  so  ordained. 

"  It  is  only  through  three  fields,  Sam  told  me." 

Sam  was  one  of  the  carters,  who  had  already  become  one 
of  Douglas's  greatest  friends. 

"  He  be  the  pluckiest,  knowingest  little  chap  that  ever  Oi 
see  wi'  such  a  baby  face!  "  was  the  carter's  opinion  of  him. 

"  If  it's  a  very  nice  wood  perhaps  I'll  come,"  said  P-  tty. 

"  You  must  save  something  from  dinner  to  take  wiih  us, 
for  we  will  have  a  feast  when  we  get  there." 

This  sounded  delightful,  and  all  spent  the  rest  of  the  day 
in  busy  confabulation  as  to  how  they  could  get  there  without 
being  stopped  by  any. one,  and  what  provisions  they  must 
take. 

But  alas!  when  the  next  day  came  nurse  announced  her 
intention  of  taking  Douglas  and  Molly  with  her  to  tea  with 
a  friend,  a  little  distance  off,  and  so  the  visit  to  the  wood 
was  postponed. 

Betty  pleaded  to  be  allowed  to  go  with  them,  but  nurse 
refused. 

"  I  can't  have  more  than  two,  and  I'm  taking  them  more 
to  keep  them  out  of  mischief  than  anything.  Mrs.  Giles  is 
24 


Was  it  an  Angel  > 

going  to  look  after  the  little  ones,  so  you  must  amuse  your- 
self." 

Betty  felt  rather  disconsolate  after  they  '  ^d  gone.  She 
wandered  into  the  farm  kitchen,  where  Mrs.  Giles,  a  good- 
natured,  smiling  woman,  was  busy  making  bread.  Tlie  twins 
were  in  a  corner  playing  with  some  kittens.  Betty  stood  at 
the  table  watching.  At  last  she  looked  up  a  little  shyly  and 
said: 

"  Mrs.  Giles,  do  you  know  a  very  nice  governess  that  lives 
here?" 

"A  guviness,  bless  your  little  heart!  Tliere's  Miss  Tyler 
in  the  village  two  mile  off,  but  I  don't  think  much  of  her ; 
she's  too  giddy  and  smart,  and  the  way  she  carries  on  with 
Dan  Somers  is  the  talk  of  the  place!  Are  you  after  having 
lessons,  then?" 

"Oh,  no,  no,  no!  "  cried  Betty,  eagerly;  "that's  why  I 
don't  talk  about  it  to  any  one ;  but  I  should  like  to  see  her, 
for  I  have  a  message  to  give  her.  I  don't  think  it  can  be 
Miss  Tyler;  Mother  Nestor— I  forget  the  name,  but  some- 
thing like  Nestor  or  Nasher,  Mr.  Roper  called  her.  She's 
old  and  young  together,  and  very  pretty." 

Mrs.  Giles  laughed.  "  Old  and  young  together!  I  know 
of  naught  like  that ;  when  we  gets  old,  youth  don't  stick  to 
us.  Do  you  think  I  answer  to  that  description,  Miss  Betty?  " 
"  I  should  say  you  were  very  old,"  observed  Betty,  reflec- 
tively ;  "  not  a  bit  young ;  but  I  think  your  red  cheeks  are 
very  pretty." 

Mrs.  Giles  laughed  again,  and  Betty  left  the  kitchen,  say- 
ing, "  I'll  go  out  of  doors  and  look  for  her ;  perhaps  she'll 
be  coming  along  the  road." 

Into  the  bright  sunshine  she  went,  across  a  clover-field, 
and  out  at  a  gate  into  the  white,  dusty  road.  She  trotted 
along,  picking  flowers  by  the   waysale,  and  peeping  over 

115 


The  Odd  One 


11 
I 


hedges  to  look  at  the  tiny  lambs  or  young  foals  and  heifers 
sporting  on  the  green  grass.  Everything  was  new  and 
delightful  to  her ;  the  birds  singing,  the  budding  trees,  the 
bright  blue  sky  and  sweet  fresh  air,  all  were  filling  her  little 
heart  with  content  and  happiness.  Wandering  on,  she  kept 
no  reckoning  of  time  or  distance,  until  she  came  to  a  church 
in  the  midst  of  green  elms,  and  rooks  keeping  up  a  perpetual 
chatteration  on  the  topmost  branches  of  the  trees. 

Betty  was  a  little  afraid  of  rooks ;  they  were  so  big  and 
strong  and  black  that  she  feared  they  would  peck  her  legs ; 
but  she  was  very  tired  and  warm,  and  as  the  church  gate  was 
open  she  thought  she  would  venture  into  the  cool  shade  of 
the  elms  inside.  Her  little  steps  took  her  to  the  church 
porch,  and  finding  the  door  partly  open,  with  a  child's  curi- 
osity she  pushed  her  way  in,  there  to  stand  with  admiring 
awe  in  the  cool,  quiet  atmosphere.  It  was  a  pretty  old 
church  with  stained-glass  windows,  and  the  sun  streaming 
through  sent  flashing  rays  of  red  and  blue,  golden  and  purple, 
across  the  old  stone  walls  and  oaken  seats. 

Betty  felt  she  was  in  another  world  at  once,  and  the  very 
novelty  and  strangeness  of  her  surroundings  had  a  great 
charm  for  her.  Slowly  she  made  her  way  round  the  church, 
looking  at  every  tablet  and  monument,  and  trying  in  vain  to 
decipher  the  writing  upon  them.  But  one  among  them 
brought  her  to  a  standstill :  it  was  the  figure  of  a  little  girl, 
sculptured  in  white  marble,  lying  in  a  recumbent  position ; 
her  hands  were  crossed  on  her  breast,  with  a  lily  placed  be- 
tween them ;  her  eyes  were  closed,  and  her  hair  curled  over 
her  brow  and  round  her  shoulders  in  the  most  natural  way. 
Just  above  her  was  a  stained-glass  window — a  beautiful  rep- 
resentation of  the  Saviour  taking  the  children  in  His  arms 
and  blessing  them.  Below  the  window  was  written  in  plain 
black  letters : 
26 


Was  it  an  Angel } 


IN  LOVING  MEMORY  OF  VIOLET  RUSSELL 

Aged  six  years 

"Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto  Me,  and  forbid  them 

not" 

Betty  drew  a  deep  breath ;  her  thoughts  were  busy.  She 
wished  herself  that  little  girl,  lying  so  calm  and  beautiful, 
with  the  red  and  golden  rays  slanting  across  her ;  and  then, 
looking  up  at  the  window,  she  wished  still  more  that  she  was 
one  of  those  happy  children  in  the  Lord's  arms. 

Looking  up  with  tearful  eyes,  she  clasped  her  hands  and 
let  her  buttercups  and  bluebells  fall  to  the  ground  unheeded. 

"O  God,  I  will  be  good!      I  will  be  good!  " 

Those  were  all  the  words  uttered,  but  He  who  heard  them 
looked  down  into  the  overflowing  heart  and  knew  all  that 
lay  behind  them. 

Long  the  child  stood  there,  and  then  with  flagging  foot- 
steps made  her  way  down  the  aisle. 

"  I'm  very  tired,"  she  murmured  to  herself;  "  I'll  just  sit 
down  inside  that  pew." 

And  a  moment  after,  curling  herself  up  on  the  cushions, 
Betty  wen*  fast  asleep. 

She  was  dreaming  soon  of  a  wonderful  white-robed  throng. 
She  saw  the  little  girl  walk  up  with  her  white,  still  face  to  a 
golden  throne ;  she  tried  to  follow,  but  could  not  manage  to 
walk,  and  then  the  most  wonderful  music  began  to  sound ; 
louder  and  clearer  it  came,  until  with  a  start  she  opened  her 
eyes  and  discovered  where  she  was.  Was  it  all  a  dream? 
The  music  was  still  sounding  in  her  ears,  and,  sitting  up,  she 
peered  over  the  edge  of  the  high  pew.  There,  seated  at  the 
organ,  was  a  lady,  and  she  was  pouring  forth  such  a  flood  of 


The  Odd  One 


u 

■ 


melody  and  song  that  it  did  indeed  seem  to  the  half-wakened 
child  music  straight  from  heaven. 

Betty  listened  breathlessly  to  the  words— words  that  she 
knew  now  so  well  and  that  were  ever  in  her  thoughts :  "  These 
are  they  which  came  out  of  great  tr  bulation,  and  have  washed 
their  robes,  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb." 

It  was  a  beautiful  anthem,  and  a  beautiful  voice  that  was 
singing.  Betty  had  never  heard  such  singing  before.  She 
gazed  with  open  mouth  and  eyes.  The  lady  was  rather  a 
young  one,  she  noticed ;  and  when  her  voice  rose  in  triumph, 
and  the  organ  pealed  out  in  accompaniment,  Betty  saw  that 
her  uplifted  eyes,  shining  as  they  were  with  such  a  glad  light 
behind  them,  were  full  of  tears. 

"  It's  an  angel,"  she  whispered  to  herself.  And  when  at 
last  the  notes  died  away  and  there  was  stillness  in  the  church 
—when  she  saw  the  lady's  face  bowed  in  her  hands  as  if  in 
prayer— Betty  stole  softly  out  of  the  building  and  retraced 
her  steps  along  the  road,  sobbing  as  she  went.  It  had  been 
too  much  for  her  excitable  little  brain ;  she  always  had  been 
passionately  fond  of  music,  but  was  more  accustomed  to  the 
street-organs  in  the  City  than  to  any  other  sort,  and  this  was 
'  as  great  a  contrast  to  those  as  heaven  is  to  earth. 

It  was  a  long  way  back,  but  Betty  did  not  feel  it.  Had 
God  sent  an  angel  to  sing  to  her?  Was  there  a  chance  of 
her  ever  being  among  that  white-robed  throng?  If  she  could 
only  go  through  tribulation!  Had  the  little  girl  lying  so 
white  and  still  gone  through  it?  These  and  other  similar 
puzzling  thoughts  came  crowding  through  her  brain. 

She  was  very  quiet  when  she  reached  the  farm.  They 
were  just  sitting  down  to  tea  when  she  came  in,  and  Mrs. 
Giles  looked  relieved  when  she  saw  her. 

"We  was  wonderin'  where  you  had  got  to,"  she  said. 
"  Ain't  you  tired?     You  look  quite  beat." 
28 


i 


"  I've  had  a  lovely  afternoon,"  was  the  child's  answer,  and 
the  blue  eyes  shone  up  at  her  questioner ;  but  not  a  word 
more  could  be  got  from  her,  though  the  httle  boys  did  their 
best  to  extract  more  information. 

The  next  day  was  a  wet  one,  but  the  little  StuarU  were 
never  at  a  loss  for  occupation,  and  when  they  were  packed 
oflf  into  a  large  empty  garret  for  the  whole  afternoon  their 
delight  was  tmbounded. 

At  last,  tired  out,  their  spirits  began  to  flag,  and  after 
having  exhau'  -•  all  their  stock  of  games  they  flung  them- 
selves  down  on     e  ground  to  rest. 

"  I'll  tell  you  a  story,"  said  Betty,  suddenly. 

"  AU  right,  go  on." 

Betty  sat  -o  in  a  corner  and  rested  her  back  against  the 
wall.  She  clasped  her  small  hands  in  front  of  her,  and, 
gazing  dreamily  up  at  an  old  beam  across  the  room,  on  which 
hung  many  a  cobweb,  she  began : 

"  It  was  a  beautiful  day  in  heaven—" 

"It's  always  a  beautiful  day  there,"  put  in  Douglas, 
criticall) 

"  I  never  said  it  wasn't.  You're  not  to  interrupt  me.  It 
was  a  beautiful  day;  the  harps  were  playing  and  the  angels 
singing.  And  one  angel  looked  as  if  she  wanted  something ; 
so  God  asked  her  what  was  the  matter. 

" '  Oh,  please,'  she  said,  '  I  want  to  go  down  to  earth  to- 
day.' 

What  do  you  want  to  do  there,  O  angel? ' 
"  '  I  want  to  play  and  sing  to  some  children  there.' 
"Then  God  said  she  might  go.     So  she  flew  down  and 
changed  her  clothes—" 

"What  kind  of  clothes  did  she  put  on?"  asked  Molly, 
eagerly. 

Betty  considered  a  moment.     "She  put  on  a  straw  hat 

29 


TheOdaOnc 

and  a  gray  dress ;  she  took  off  her  wings  and  folded  them 
up." 

"Where  did  she  put  them? "  demanded  Douglas. 

"  Down  a  well,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  "  It  was  a  dry 
well,  and  she  put  her  white  dress  and  crown  in  it ;  she  did 
them  up  in  a  paper  parcel  and  wrote  her  name  on." 

"  What  was  her  name?  "  asked  Bobby. 

Betty  knitted  her  brows.  "  It  was  a  Bible  name,  of  course ; 
I  think  it  was  Miriam.  She  felt  the  earth  was  very  hot,  for 
the  sun  was  shining  like  anything ;  and  then  she  wondered 
whom  she  could  sing  to.  Well,  she  walked  along  a  road,  and 
then  she  saw  a  church ;  so  she  thought  that  must  be  a  good 
place,  and  she  went  inside.  The  church  was  dark  and  cool 
and  still,  but  it  was  lovely.  And  there  were  red  and  blue 
and  yellow  and  green  and  violet  sunbeams,  and  beautiful 
painted  windows  and  white  marble  figures  all  about,  and  it 
was  so  still  that  you  felt  you  must  hush  and  walk  on  tiptoe. 
And  then  what  do  you  think  she  saw?  " 

All  eyes  were  on  Betty  now,  as  she  sank  her  voice  to  an 
impressi^       Hisper. 

"She  saw  a  little  girl  fast  asleep!  " 

"Go  on,"  said  Douglas,  impatiently,  as  Bel ,^•  made  an- 
other pause. 

"  So  the  angel  thought  she  would  sing  to  her ;  so  she  went 
up  very  softly  to  the  big  organ  and  began  to  play  it,  and  then 
she  began  to  sing.  It  was  lovely ;  she  sang  like  she  did  in 
heaven ;  and  the  little  girl  woke  up  and  listened." 

"  What  did  she  sing  about  ?  "  asked  Molly. 

"  She  sang  about  heaven,  and  all  the  people  and  children 
who  had  come  through  great  tribulation.  And  the  music 
went  on  right  up  to  the  top  of  the  church,  and  her  voice  got 
louder  and  louder,  and  then  softer  and  softer  to  a  whisper ;  and 
then  the  music  got  softer  too,  and  then— it  was  quite  still." 

3U 


Wash  an  Angel? 

"  Well,  go  on.     What  did  the  little  girl  do?  " 
"  The  little  girl  came  away ;  she— she  cried  a  little  " 
'•  Why,  you're  crying  too!     What  a  silly  I" 
Betty  dashed  her  small  hand  across  her  eyes  and  threw 
up  her  head  defiantly.     "  That's  all  my  story,"  she  said. 

"Oh,  what  a  stupid  story!  You  must  make  a  proper 
ending." 

"You  shall  go  on!  we'll  make  you!  " 
"  Did  the  angel  get  her  proper  clothes  again?  " 
"  Yes,"  said  Betty,  with  a  little  sigh ;  "  she  put  them  on 
and  went  up  to  heaven ;  an     lod  asked  her  what  she'd  done, 
and  she  told  Him  she  the  .^ht  the  little  girl  would  like  to 
come  to  heaven,  if  He  would  let  her." 

There  was  a  little  break  in  Betty's  voice.  She  slid  down 
from  her  corner  and  rolled  over  on  the  floor,  her  face  hidden 
from  the  others.  Then  in  a  second  she  called  out,  "  I  see  a 
mouse!      Let  us  catch  him!  " 

The  children  were  on  their  feet  directly,  and  a  regular 
scramble  ensued,  Betty  the  most  boisterous  of  them  all.  And 
when  nurse  came  in  a  little  later  she  found  the  little  story- 
teller in  the  act  of  crawling  across  the  oaken  beam  in  the 
cenfr  of  the  room,  to  thv,  intense  delight  of  those  watchmg 
her  below. 

Nurse  caught  her  breath  at  the  daring  feat,  but  waited  till 
she  had  accomplished  it  in  saiety,  then  caught  her  in  her 
arms,  and,  taking  uer  off,  gave  her  a  good  whipping;  and 
Betty's  spirits  totally  subsided  for  the  rest  of  the  evening. 


t  .1 


1 
I 


If 


31 


f  f  I 


IV 
ADVENTURES 

The  visit  to  the  wood  came  off  the  day  after.  Nurse  ar- 
rayed all  h«"r  little  charges  in  large  hoUand  overalls  and  sent 
them  out  into  the  fields  for  the  afternoon.  And  the  little 
party  set  out  in  good  spirits,  Bobby  and  Billy  tramping 
sturdily  along,  under  the  firm  conviction  that  they  were  going 
to  meet  with  wild  beasts  and  go  through  the  most  harrowing 
adventures. 

It  was  a  long  walk,  but  t!  iy  reached  the  wood  at  last,  and 
came  to  a  standstill  when  they  saw  the  ditch  and  the  thick 
hedge  that  surrounded  it. 

"  There's  a  castle,  and  a  princess  inside,  so  they  don't  like 
people  to  come  in,"  asserted  Douglas ;  "  but  we'll  find  a  hole 
somewhere  and  creep  through." 

And  this  was  soon  done.  The  children  looked  round  them 
with  delight  at  the  little  winding  paths,  the  banks  of  green 
moss,  and  the  thick,  overhanging  bushes  and  trees,  that 
seemed  so  full  of  life  and  interest.  Douglas  was  in  his  ele- 
ment. - 

"  We'll  find  a  place  we  must  call  home  first,  and  then  we'll 
see  what  food  we've  got." 

The  foot  of  an  old  oak-tree  was  chosen.  Bits  of  cake, 
pudding,  some  biscuits,  and  a  few  lumps  of  sugar  were  then 
33 


li 


tadi_a<UfiUaMiCiMMMI«UiH 


|.Hi»ptiil 


Adventures 

produced  from  different  pockets,  and  these  were  given  over 
to  Douglas,  who,  wrapping  them  in  paper,  deposited  them 
inside  the  hollow  trunk  of  the  tree. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  '  ,'.•«  must  all  divide  and  go  in  search  of 
adventures ;  ar  :  when  v/e'vf:  '--md  them  we  can  come  back 
and  tell  the  otl  'jrs  here,  ai.'d  t'.en  we'll  have  a  feast." 

"  And  if  we  c  -n  c  find  aMyi*  '  questioned  Betty,  doubtfully. 

"Then  you  must  go  on  ill  you  do.  Why,  of  course  a 
wood  is  full  of  dangers.  I  mean  to  have  an  awful  time. 
We  must  go  two  and  two :  Molly  and  I  will  take  this  path, 
and  the  twins  can  take  that  one,  and  you,  Betty,  must  go  by 
yourself,  because  you're  the  odd  one." 

"  I  always  have  to  go  alone,"  murmured  Betty ;  "  it  isn't 
fair." 

Bobby  and  Billy  stood  clasping  erch  other's  hands  and 
looking  with  anxious  though  determined  faces  along  the  path 
mapped  out  for  them. 

"  And  if  we  should  meet  a  cwocodile?  "  Billy  asked,  lifting 
his  blue  eyes  to  those  of  his  big  brother. 

"  Then  you  must  either  kill  it  or  run  away,"  said  Douglas ; 
"  and  crocodiles  don't  Hve  in  woods." 

"And  if  we  lose  ourselves  in  the  wood?"  questioned 
Bobby. 

"  If  you're  frightened  you  needn't  go,  but  stay  here  till 
we  come  back,"  put  in  Molly,  her  conscience  a  little  uneasy 
with  turning  such  little  fellows  loose  on  their  own  resources. 

But  this  gave  the  twins  courage.  Frightened!  Not  a  bit 
of  it!  And  they  trotted  off,  calling  out  they  were  going  to 
kill  every  one  they  met. 

Betty  likewise  started  on  her  journey.  She  was  feeling 
rather  depressed  with  the  truth  of  which  she  was  always  being 
reminded,  namely,  that  she  was  the  odd  one. 

"  I  wish  there  had  just  been  one  more  of  us,"  she  kept 

3a 


v*- 


ril 


K: 


The  Odd  One 

saying  to  herself.    "  I'm  either  one  too  many  or  one  too  few, 
and  it's  very  dull  to  be  always  alone." 

But  her  thoughts  soon  left  herself  when  she  saw  some 
rabbits  scudding  away  in  the  distance,  and  the  flowers  on 
her  path  and  the  strangeness  of  her  surroundings  were  quite 
enough  to  occupy  her  mind.  She  soon  found  that  her  path 
was  coming  to  an  end;  right  across  it  was  some  fine  wire 
netting,  and  for  a  moment  she  hesitated,  then,  deciding  to  go 
straight  on,  clambered  over  it  with  great  difficulty.  The  grass 
was  smoother  here,  and  the  path  a  wide  one.  A  little  dis- 
tance farther  was  an  iron  seat,  and  then  she  came  to  a  long, 
straight  grass  walk  with  trees  on  either  side,  and  at  the  end 
a  gate  in  an  old  stone  wall. 

"  I  shall  have  to  get  through  that  gate,"  she  mused,  "  or 
else  I  must  climb  the  wall.  I  wonder  what  is  inside?  It 
might  be  anything,— a  castle,  w>h  an  ogre  or  giant,  or  a 
prince  and  princess,— and  I  can't  go  back  till  I  find  out.  My 
adventures  have  come.  But  I'm  very  tired ;  I'll  just  sit  down 
for  a  little  before  I  go  on." 

A  few  moments  after,  Betty's  little  body  was  lying  full 
length  on  the  grassy  path,  and  she  was  counting  over  a  cluster 
of  primroses  with  great  care  and  precision. 

"Twenty-one,  twenty-two,  twenty-three- ah,  what  a  pity! 
There  is  a  little  odd  one,  just  like  me!  " 

"  What  are  you  doing,  child?  " 

Betty  started  to  her  feet.  Looking  down  upon  her  was  a 
tall  old  lady,  dressed  in  a  shady  straw  hat  and  black  lace 
shawl ;  her  black  silk  dress  rustled  as  she  moved.  One  hand 
was  resting  on  a  stick,  the  other  was  holding  a  sunshade. 
Her  face  vas  as  still  and  cold-looking  as  some  of  the  figures 
on  the  monuments  in  the  little  village  church,  and  her  voice 
stem  and  peremptory. 

Wild  thoughts  flashed  through  Betty's  brain.  Was  this  a 
34 


-'aWHWIHt 


magiam 


Adventures 


fairy  godmother,  a  queen,  a  princess?     Or  might  it  possibly 
be  the  old  governess  that  Mr.  Roper  loved  so  much? 

Again  the  question  was  repeated  in  the  same  stem  tone, 
and  Betty  gazed  up  in  awe  as  she  answered  simply : 

"  I  was  counting  the  primroses  to  see  if  they  were  even  or 
odd." 

"  And  what  business  have  you  to  be  trespassing  in  my 
private  grounds?" 

"  I  didn't  know  this  was  trespassing,"  Betty  faltered ;  "  a 
wood  belongs  to  anybody  in  the  country,  and  I  haven't  got 
inside  your  gate  yet,  though  I  was  going  to  try." 

"  And  pray  what  were  you  coming  inside  my  gate  to  do?  " 

"  I'm— I'm  looking  for  adventures ;  I  have  to  do  something 
before  I  go  back." 

"  I  think  you  had  better  explain  to  me  who  you  are." 

The  voice  was  gentler,  and  Betty  took  courage.  The  lady 
listened  to  her  attentively  and  seemed  interested ;  she  even 
smiled  when  Betty,  looking  up,  asked  innocently,  "  I  suppose 
you  are  not  a  princess,  are  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not  a  princess,"  she  said ;  "  but  this  is  a  private 
wood,  and  T  '-nnnot  allow  children  to  run  wild  all  over  it." 

"And  '*  we  ever  come  here  again?"  asked  Betty, 

with  a  gTL  :.     "  We  should  be  ever  so  careful,  and  we 

won't  pick  ci  flower  if  you'll  only  let  us  walk  about.  We've 
never  seen  a  wood  before,  only  read  about  one  in  our  story- 
books ;  and  children  always  go  through  woods  in  books  with- 
out being  stopped,  unless  it's  an  ogre  or  a  giant  that  stops 
them." 

The  lady  did  not  speak  for  a  minute,  then  she  said : 

"  How  many  are  there  of  you?  " 

"  Five,  wiih  me.  There's  Molly  and  Douglas,  and  there's 
Bobby  and  Billy ;  I'm  the  odd  one." 

"  Why  should  you  be  the  odd  one?  " 

35 


li 


The  Odd  One 

"  Because  Molly  and  Douglas  are  the  eldest  ones,  and 
they  always  go  together ;  and  Bobby  and  Billy  are  the  babies 
—mother  always  calls  them  the  babies ;  and  I  come  in  be- 
tween, and  I  belong  to  no  one.  You  see,  in  our  games  it's 
generally  two  and  two;  I  always  make  everything  odd. 
And  Molly  and  Douglas  are  always  having  secrets,  and  that 
only  leaves  me  the  babies  to  play  with,  and  they're  only  just 
four  years  old— much  too  small  for  me." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  a  doll  or  something  to  comfort  your- 
self with?     I  remember  I  used  to  when  I  was  a  little  girl." 

"  I  don't  much  like  dolls,"  said  Betty,  with  a  decided  shake 
of  her  curly  head  ;  "  I  like  something  'eally  alive— something 
that  moves  by  itself.  There's  a  bi^  r -r^-dog  at  our  farm 
called  Rough.  I  sometimes  get  hold  of  i..m  for  a  game,  but 
he  likes  Douglas  better  than  me.  Sam  says  he's  always  fond 
of  boys." 

"  Would  you  hke  to  come  inside  my  gate?  "  asked  the  lady, 
looking  down  upon  Betty  with  a  strange  tenderness  in  her 
eyes,  though  her  lips  were  still  grave  and  stem. 

Betty  slipped  her  hand  confidingly  into  hers. 

"Yes,  please;  and  will  you  tell  me  who  you  are?  I 
think  you're  rather  like  a  lady  I'm  trying  to  find.  She  teaches 
children ;  a  governess  the  is,  and  she's  old  and  young  to- 
gether.    You're  much  more  like  her  than  Mrs.  Giles  is." 

But  the  lai'.y  did  not  satisfy  Betty's  curiosity ;  she  only  said, 
"  1  have  never  taught  any  children  in  my  life,"  and  led  her 
up  the  grassy  walk  to  the  gate  in  the  wall.  "  I  am  only  going 
to  let  you  stand  inside  for  a  moment,  and  then  you  must 
run  away.  And  you  must  never  come  over  the  wire  netting 
in  the  wood  again.  You  and  your  brothers  and  sister  can 
play  in  the  other  part  of  the  wood,  but  I  will  not  have  chil- 
dren running  over  my  private  walks." 

She  opened  the  gate,  and  Betty  saw  a  lovely  flower-garden 
36 


BBSB 


Adventures 


with  a  smooth,  grassy  lawn,  and  away  in  the  distance  a  great 
white  house.  The  flowers  were  exquisite,  and  to  Betty's  eyes 
they  were  a  feast  of  delight.  Her  little  face  flushed  with 
pleasure. 

"  Do  you  Hve  here?  "  she  asked.  "  How  happy  you  must 
be!  " 

"  Do  you  like  it  better  than  my  wood?  " 

Betty  turned  from  the  blaze  of  sunshine  and  brightness  to 
look  at  the  cool  green  glade  behind  her.  She  did  not  answer 
for  a  minute ;  then  she  said,  pointing  with  her  small  finder 
down  the  grassy  avenue  : 

"  It's  something  like  church  down  there,  it  looks  so  quiet ; 
but  this  garden  is  like  heaven,  I  think." 

The  lady  smiled.  "  I  will  give  you  any  flower  you  like  to 
take  away,  so  choose." 

Betty  was  not  long  in  making  her  choice.  There  were 
some  beautiful  white  lilies  close  by — lilies  that  might  have 
come  from  the  same  plant  as  that  one  lying  between  the  little 
girl's  hands  in  church. 

"  I  should  like  one  of  those,  please,"  she  said  with  spar- 
kling eyes. 

She  was  given,  not  one,  but  several,  and  then  was  dis- 
missed. 

"  And  I  shall  never  see  you  again,"  Betty  said  as  she  put 
up  her  mouth  for  a  kiss.  She  did  not  say  it  regretfully,  only 
as  if  stating  a  fact. 

The  lady  stooped  and  kissed  her.  "  Not  unless  I  send  for 
you,"  she  said.     "  Can  you  find  your  way  back?  " 

Betty  nodded  brightly  and  ran  off.  The  lady  stood  watch- 
ing her  little  figure  for  some  minutes ;  then  she  gave  a  deep 
sigh,  and  her  face  relapsed  into  its  usual  stern  and  immovable 
expression  as  she  entered  her  garden  and  locked  the  gate 
behind  her. 

37 


f  i 

HI 


t 


The  Odd  One 

Betty  rap  on  as  fast  as  she  could  to  join  the  others.  When 
she  reached  the  oak-tree  Douglas  and  Molly  were  already 
there,  seated  on  the  ground,  busily  employed  in  dividing  the 
provisions  for  the  feast.  They  exclaimed  at  the  sight  of  her 
flowers. 

"  I've  had  a  lovely  adventure,"  said  Betty.  "  Where  are 
Bobby  and  Billy?" 

"  We  don't  know,"  said  Molly,  rising  to  her  feet  and  look- 
ing anxious.    "  I'm  sure  they  ought  to  be  here  by  this  time." 

"  Perhaps  they're  lost,"  Douglas  suggested  cheerfully.  "  I 
was  hoping  some  of  us  would  get  lost,  and  then  we  should 
have  the  fun  of  finding  them.  We'll  go  in  a  few  minutes 
and  look  for  them.  Would  you  like  to  hear  where  we  have 
been,  Betty?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  it  is  rather  a  stupid  wood,  for  we  came  to  nothing 
particular;  only  we've  found  a  little  house.  It  has  three 
sides  and  a  roof-tumbling  in.  We're  going  to  mend  it  up 
and  live  there  next  time  we  come  out  here.  At  least,  I  mean 
to  live  in  it.  I  shall  be  a  disguised  prince  hiding  for  my  life, 
and  you  will  ail  have  to  search  the  wood  to  get  food  for  me. 
Molly  and  I  have  made  it  all  up.  She  is  to  be  my  daughter, 
who  steals  out  at  night-time  to  visit  me ;  you  can  be  a  ser- 
vant, who  mends  the  roof  and  makes  me  comfortable ;  and 
the  twins  can  be  soldiers  scouring  the  wood  for  me." 

Neither  Betty  nor  Molly  showed  much  interest  in  this 
plan ;  they  were  both  thinking  of  the  twins ;  and  Douglas, 
having  said  his  say,  was  quite  ready  to  start  otf  on  the  quest. 

Together  they  ran  along  the  path  by  which  the  little  boys 
had  gone.  It  led  them  under  some  low  brushwood  and  then 
along  the  banks  of  a  stream ;  and  then,  calling  their  names 
aloud,  they  were  relieved  to  hear  an  answering  call.  A  mo- 
ment later  and  they  came  upon  them.  The  stream  was  broad 
38 


-TTii'Trr-riiyriTiin 


Adventures 

and  rather  deep  here,  with  great  boulders  of  stone  appearing 
above  the  water.  Upon  one  of  these  boulders,  in  the  center 
of  the  stream,  sat  the  two  httle  boys,  wet  to  the  skin,  and 
looking  the  pictures  of  abject  despair. 

"However  did  you  get  there?"  said  Douglas,  rather 
angrily. 

"  Billy  was  getting  :ome  forget-me-nots,  and  tumbled  in, 
and  so  I  came  over  to  heln  him,  and  we  can't  get  back,"  ex- 
plained Bobby,  not  very  lucidly. 

"  If  you  got  over  there  you  can  get  back  again,"  Molly 
said  decisively. 

At  this  both  the  twins  began  to  cry. 
"  It's  so  cold ;  we  was  nearly  drownded,  and  we've  seen  a 
shark  swim  along." 

Douglas  laughed,  but  took  of!  his  shoes  and  stockings. 
"  I  shall  have  to  wade  in  and  bring  them  over  on  my 
back,"  he  said  with  rather  a  lordly  air. 

And  this  he  did,  landing  both  the  twins  safely  on  the  bank. 

"  Nurse  will  scold  awfully,  they're  both  so  wet.     We  shall 

have  to  go  home  at  once,"  said  prudent  Molly,  as  with  very 

small  handkerchiefs  she  and  Betty  tried  to  wipe  some  of  the 

wet  off  their  clothes. 

"  And  then  she'll  say  we're  never  to  come  to  the  wood 
again.     I  wish  we  hadn't  brought  them  with  us!  " 

It  was  a  quiet  little  party  that  returned  to  Brook  Farm. 
And  in  the  excitement  of  receiving  the  vials  of  nurse's  wrath, 
and  the  fuss  made  over  the  poor  little  victims,  Betty's  ad- 
ventures remained  still  unheard  and  unknown. 

She  was  not  sorry  that  this  was  so,  and  was  quite  content 
to  muse  in  the  secrecy  of  her  own  heart  upon  the  beautiful 
cold  lady  who  had  given  her  the  lilies.  She  thought  of  her 
sleeping  and  waking,  and  with  a  strange  longing  wondered 

if  she  would  ever  be  allowed  to  see  her  again. 

39 


ii 


The  OU  One 

The  nex'  emoon  was  a  very  warm  one,  but  Betty's 
restless  hu  et  could  not  stay  in  the  buttercup  meadow 
close  to  th  ^use.  where  the  others  were  playing,  and  soon 
a  small  wl  figure  in  a  large  sunbonnet  could  have  been 
seen  plodding  along  the  dusty  road  toward  the  churchyard 
in  the  distance.  ' 

Her  little,  determined  face  relaxed  into  wonderful  softness 
when  she  entered  the  cool  church.  Going  on  tiptoe  up  the 
aisle  she  came  to  the  monument  of  little  Violet  Russell. 
t^l  ">!  «h«  P^"«ed ;  then,  clambering  up  with  a  little  diffi- 
culty, she  laid  two  fresh  lilies  by  the  side  of  the  sculptured 
one  across  the  clasped  hands  of  the  child's  figure 

hoiZ*"",!;''? 7  v^  '"  ^  ^"'^"^  ^'^'■^  =  "  y°"  ^ha'n't  always 
hold  a  cold,  dead  lily,  Violet  dear ;  I've  brought  them  to  you 
from  my  own  self,  because  they're  mine,  and  I'll  get  you 
some  other  flowers  when  they  are  dead  " 

She  put  her  soft  red  lips  down  and  left  a  kiss  on  the  little 
clasped  hands,  and  then  slipped  down  to  the  ground  again 
where  she  stood  for  a  moment  looking  up  at  the  stal:   d 
window  above.    A  noise  startled  her.    Walking  up  the  middle 
aisle  was  the  lady  who  had  played  to  her  beforehand  fdlow 

ird-o^b^d  r:jan"^'  ^'^  ^^^---^^  ^^--^^ » 

Betty  slipped  behind  a  pillar  and  watched  eagerly      Yes 
she  was  going  to  play  again;  and  her  hea  .  beat  hL  with 

IZTT/--J''  "'''  '"°  °"^  °^  ''^  ^'■^'^'  old-faslned 
pews,  and.  sitting  on  a  hassock,  leaned  her  little  head  back 
upon  the  seat  and  prepared  herself  to  listen 

>«y's"oT  ""TT^  ''V  '''^  ''''''''  "^  ^^''g'"  through 
-ettys  soul.     The  long,  soft  notes,  that  died  away  like  a 

ummer  bree3e,  the  deep,  grand  rolls,  that  seemed  to  come 

from  a  .avern  below,  and  then  blend  with  the  clear^swee 

echoes  nsin^  and  falling,  and  at  length  ascending  in  k  b4 


tmi^-.^'^i--^-^—-.- 


Adventures 

of  praise  and  gladness— it  seemed  to  her  that  the  angels 
above  would  be  stooping  to  listen  to  such  strains. 

And  then,  after  a  little,  the  lady  began  to  sing ;  and  Betty 
drew  in  one  deep  breath  after  another.  It  must  be  an  angel, 
surely  i  And  yet  there  was  something  in  the  fresh  holland 
dress  and  shady  hat  of  the  singer  this  afternoon  that  seemed 
hardly  suitable  for  an  angel's  apparel. 

The  lady  once  looked  round,  and  Betty  thought  her  face 
looked  sad ;  I  ut  when  she  began  to  sing  her  face  was  illu- 
mined with  such  light  and  gladness  that  the  child  watched  it 
entranced. 

An  hour  passed,  and  then  the  singer  was  startled  by  the 
sound  of  a  sob.  She  was  singing,  "  Oh,  that  I  had  wings 
like  a  dove!"  and,  turning  round,  was  startled  at  the  sight 
of  a  white  sunbonnet,  and  two  small  hands  grasping  the  back 
of  one  of  the  pews.  Betty  had  mounted  on  the  hassock  to 
have  a  full  view  of  the  singer  long  ago,  and  was  now  trying  in 
vain  to  restrain  the  pent-up  feelings  of  her  sensitive  little  soul. 

In  an  instant  the  lady  had  left  her  seat  and  come  up  to 
the  child. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  little  one?  How  did  you  find  your 
way  in  here?  "  she  asked  gently,  as  she  put  her  arm  round 
the  sobbing  child. 

But  Betty  could  not  put  her  feelings  into  words ;  she  only 
shook  her  head  'nd  sobbed,  "I  like  the  music;  don't  stop 
singing." 

"  I  must  stop  now ;  my  hour  is  up.    Tell  me  who  you  are." 

Betty  made  an  effort  to  recover  her  self-possession. 

"  I'm  only  Betty,"  she  said,  dabbing  her  face  with  her 
handkerchief.     "Are  you  an  angel?  " 

"  Indeed  I  am  not ;  do  I  look  like  one?  " 

And  the  lady  threw  back  her  head  and  laughed  in  a  very 
amused  way. 

41 


i\ 

<    ^ 


i 


The  Odd  One 


"  Not  now,"  said  Betty,  soberly ;  "  but  you  did  look  like 
one  when  you  were  singing,  and  I— I  hoped  you  might  be." 

"Why  di^  you  hope  so?" 

Again  Betty  was  silent ;  then,  looking  up,  she  seemed  to 
gather  courage  from  the  kind  face  looking  down  upon  her, 
and,  burying  her  face  ir  the  lady's  dress,  she  sobbed  out : 

"  I  thought  God  might  have  sent  you,  and  then  you  could 
have  told  me  lots  of  things  I  wanted  to  know." 

"  Perhaps  God  may  have  sent  me  instead  of  an  angel. 
Tell  me  some  of  the  things  you  want  to  know." 

"  I  want  to  know  about  Violet  and  heaven  and  tribulation," 
murmured  Betty,  a  little  incoherently.  And  then  she  started 
as  the  church  clock  in  the  belfry  began  to  chime  five. 

"  It's  tea-time ;  nurse  will  be  looking  for  me." 

The  lady  stooped  and  kissed  her.  "  I  must  go  too,"  she 
said.  "  Will  you  ':ome  and  see  me  to-morrow  afternoon?  I 
shall  be  here  at  the  same  time,  and  then  we  can  have  a 
little  talk." 

"  Wh^t ',  y  JUT  name?  "  asked  Betty. 

"  Nesta,"  the  young  lady  answered  a  little  briefly. 

"And  do  you  teach  children?"  was  the  next  question, 
breathlessly  put. 

"  Sometimes ;  on  Sundays  I  do." 

Betty's  face  lighted  up,  but  she  said  no  more,  and  trotted 
out  of  the  church  and  along  the  road  as  hard  as  ever  she 
could. 


im 


42 


tmm 


mmmmmmmmmmm 


4 


PRINCE 


The  children  were  all  at  breakfast  the  next  morning  in  the 
old-fashioned  kitchen.  Nurse  and  her  brother  were  having 
an  animated  talk  over  some  reminiscences  of  the  pasc,  when 
there  was  a  knock  at  the  back  door,  and  Mrs.  Giles  went 
out.  Coming  back,  she  appeared  with  a  small  hamper  under 
her  arm,  which  she  placed  on  the  floor. 

"  'Tis  the  queerest  thing  I  know  of,"  she  said.  "  Look  at 
the  label  now,  Jack ;  whoever  is  it  for?  " 

Every  one  crowded  round  at  once. 

"  For  the  little  odd  one  at  Brook  Farm." 

'"Tis  for  one  of  the  children,"  said  Jack,  rubbing  his 
head ;  "  they  be  the  only  little  'uns  that  I  know  of." 

"  It's  for  Betty!  "  shouted  Douglas  and  Moll) ,  excitedly  ; 
"she's  the  odd  one!  Open  it  quick,  Betty;  perhaps  it's  a 
big  cake." 

"  It's  alive!  "  exclaimed  nurse,  as,  on  her  knees,  she  tried 
to  undo  the  fastenings.  "Come  along.  Miss  Betty;  you 
shall  open  it  for  yourself." 

Betty  came   near   and  with   trembling   fingers  cut   the 

string. 

A  minute  a.      ,  and  out  of  the  hampe?  jumped  a  beautiful 

little  black-and-white  sp.aniel. 

43 


y 


11 


4 


I 


The  Odd  One 

There  were  screams  of  delight  from  all  the  children,  and 
great  surmises  as  to  who  could  have  sent  it.  Betty  guessed, 
but  said  nothing  when  she  found  a  piece  of  paper  tied  to  a 
brass  collar  round  his  neck,  with  these  words:  "From  a 
friend,  hoping  he  may  prove  a  true  companion." 

She  clasped  her  arms  round  the  dog's  neck  in  ecstasy. 
"  He  is  my  very,  very  own,"  she  .said,  looking  up  at  nurse 
with  shming  eyes,  "and  I'll  have  him  for  ever  and  ever." 

The  little  creature  sniffed  at  her  face,  and  then  put  out  his 
tongue  and  gave  her  a  lick  of  satisfaction  and  appro  al. 
From  that  time  the  two  were  all  in  all  to  each  other. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  discussion  about  him  that  morn- 
ing, and  Betty  had  to  tell  of  the  strange,  stem  lady  who  had 
spoken  to  her  in  the  wood. 

"  I'm  sure  she  sent  him,"  Betty  kept  repeating;  "  I'm  sure 
she  did." 

"  It  was  awfully  mean  to  keep  your  adventure  so  secret," 
said  Douglas,  looking  at  tlie  dog  very  wiitfully.  "  She  must 
be  a  fairy  godmother  living  in  the  wood.  I  wish  she  would 
send  me  something." 

"  Perhaps  she  is  a  wicked  fairy  or  witch,"  suggested  Molly 
"  who  has  turned  a  prince  into  a  little  dog,  and  we  must  find 
a  kind  of  spell  to  bring  him  back  to  a  prince  again." 

"  That's  what  I'll  call  him,"  said  Betty,  looking  up  "  I'll 
call  him  '  Prince.'  " 

Nurse  at  first  demurred  at  having  such  an  addition  to  her 
family,  but  Mrs.  Giles  comforted  her  with  the  assurance: 
"There,  let  the  little  miss  enjoy  him ;  she'll  soon  get  tired  of 
him,-children  always  do,-and  when  you  go  back  to  the 
City  you  can  leave  him  behind  with  us.  He's  a  good  breed 
-that  we  can  see ;  and  Jack  will  be  able  to  sell  him  if  we 
don't  care  about  keeping  him." 

It  was  fortunate  Betty  did  not  hear  this  suggestion.    Prince 

•Mr 


Prince 

was  rapidly  filling  a  void  in  her  little  heart,  of  which  only 
she,  perhaps,  had  been  dimly  conscious.  She  was  a  child 
with  strong  affections  and  intense  feelings,  and  a  yearning  to 
have  some  one  to  love  and  to  be  loved  in  return.  None  of 
the  little  Stuarts  was  demonstrative,  and  few  guessed  how 
deeply  and  passionately  the  bright  and  mischievous  Bett' 
longed  for  the  sympathy  and  love  that  were  so  rarely  shown 
toward  her. 

So  engrossing  was  the  possession  of  Prince  that  the  day 
went  by  and  tea-time  came  before  Betty  thought  of  her  new 
friend  in  the  church. 

But  when  tea  was  over  she  took  Molly  into  her  confidence. 
"  Molly,  do  you  think  I  might  take  Prince  for  a  walk  ?  Would 
he  follow  me?" 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"  I'm  going  to  see  a  lady  that  I  think  is  the  governess  Mr. 
Roper  told  me  about.  Nesta,  her  name  is ;  only  I  think  he 
called  her  Mother  Nesta.  I  told  you  about  it  one  night, 
don't  you  remember?  She's  really  very  old,  but  she  looks 
very  young,  and  this  one  must  be  her." 

"  Where  did  you  find  her?  " 

"  In  a  church." 

"  Oh !  "  and  Molly's  tone  was  indifferent ;  "  I  don't  like 
people  in  <  hurch.  Nurse  says  she  is  going  to  take  us  to 
church  to-monow.  I  hoped  she  would  forget.  Last  Sunday 
it  was  too  far,  she  said.  And  Douglas  and  I  were  going  to 
have  a  beautiful  church  in  the  orchard ;  there's  an  apple-tree 
just  like  a  pulpit." 

"  Molly,"  called  out  Douglas,  "Sam  is  going  down  to  the 
river  to  fish ;  he  says  he'll  show  us  where  we  can  fish  too. 
Do  come  on!" 

Away  ran  Molly.  The  twins  were  playing  in  the  garden 
porch,  and  nurse  chatting  in  the  kitchen  with  her  sister-in- 

46 


The  Odd  One 

law.  Betty  called  Prince,  who  had  been  busy  with  a  saucer 
of  scraps,  and,  putting  on  her  straw  hat,  set  off  along  the 
road  to  church.  Prince  was  certainly  a  great  charge.  He 
was  a  dog  of  an  inquiring  mind,  and  his  continual  rushes 
into  the  hedgesides,  and  long  searches  after  young  frogs  in  the 
grass,  considerably  delayed  hi«s  young  mistress's  progress. 

But  at  length  the  church  was  reached.  The  evening 
shadows  threw  long,  weird  shapes  across  the  darkened  path 
that  led  to  the  porch,  the  rooks  were  noisier  than  usual,  and 
Betty  looked  anxiously  down  at  Prince. 

"  You  won't  bark,  dear,  will  you?  "  she  said,  stooping  and 
lifting  him  into  her  arms.  "  Because  church  is  a  very  quiet 
place,  and  music  is  the  only  noise  allowed.  I'll  take  you  in 
to  see  the  prettiest  litde  girt  you've  ever  seen,  and  she's  lying 
so  still.     I've  brought  hf>r  some  forget-me-nots." 

Prince  struggled  a  little  at  first,  but  Betty  soothed  him  and 
then  crept  inside. 

"  I'm  afraid  I've  come  too  late,"  she  murmured,  as  she 
looked  round  the  silent  church  and  saw  no  signs  of  the  lady ; 
"  but  I'll  come  another  day  soon  and  see  her." 

Softly  she  made  her  way  lound  to  the  stained-glass  window 
she  loved,  but  started  in  astonishment  when  she  saw  leaning 
against  the  monument  a  tall,  strange  gentleman. 

He  did  not  see  Betty.  His  brows  were  knitted  and  his 
lips  tw  Itching  strangely  under  his  heavy,  dark  mustache.  With 
folded  arms  he  stood  leaning  against  the  pillar,  and  looking 
down  upon  the  fair  figure  of  the  recumbent  child  in  front  of 
him ;  then  he  stooped,  and,  taking  up  one  of  the  fading  lilies 
across  the  child's  hands,  looked  at  it  wonderingly. 

"The  picture  more  lasting  than  the  thing  itself,"  he  mut- 
tered; "it  is  all  that  is  left  us.     The  fragile  productions  of 
nature  cannot  exist  long  in  this  hard,  rough  worid,  and  yet 
how  I  tried  to  shield  her  from  every  blast ' " 
46 


Prince 

A  slight  whine  from  Prince  startled  him,  and  looking  round 
he  pulled  himself  together  sternly. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  little  girl?  " 

Almost  the  same  words  that  had  been  said  to  her  in  the 
wood  the  other  day ;  and  Betty  began  to  wonder  if  shi  were 
again  on  forbidden  ground. 

"Does  the  church  belong  to  you?"  she  asked,  standing 
her  ground  and  looking  up  through  her  long,  dark  lashes 
rather  shyly  "Am  I  where  I  oughtn't  to  be?  I  came  to 
see  that  little  girl." 

He  looked  at  her. 

"  What  do  you  know  about  her?  " 

"  I  don't  know  anything,  but  I  want  to  know.  I  love 
her,  and  I've  brought  her  some  mere  flowers." 

"  Did  you  put  these  lilies  here? '' 

"  Yes ;  they're  quite  dead  now,  aren't  they?  " 

"  Of  course  they  a.'  e ;  this  is  the  place  of  death." 

Betty  did  not  understand  the  bitter  tone,  but  she  said 
simply,  pointing  to  the  child's  figure,  "  She  isn't  really  dead, 
is  she?  She  has  gone  to  sleep.  I  was  thinking  when  I  was 
here  before,  if  Jesus  would  only  just  walk  out  of  that  window 
and  touch  her  hands  with  His,  she  would  open  her  eyes  and 
get  up.  I  should  hke  to  see  her,  wouldn't  you?  I  watched 
her  the  other  day  till  I  almost  thought  I  saw  her  move.  But 
she  will  wake  up  one  day,  won't  she?  " 

There  was  no  answer. 

Betty  slipped  her  little  hand  in  his.  "  Would  you  give  her 
these  forget-me-nots,  or  lift  me  up  so  that  I  can  do  it?  "  She 
had  dropped  Prince,  who  was  sniffing  suspiciously  round  the 
gentleman's  heels,  and  waited  anxiously  for  his  reply.  He 
took  her  in  his  arms,  and  held  her  there  while  she  placed  the 
flowers  in  the  position  she  wished ;  and  then,  before  she  was 
lifted  down,  she  said  softly,  "  I  think  she  is  really  singing  up 

47 


J. 


The  Odd  One 

in  heaven.     I  like  to  believe  she  is  there,  but  I'm  not  quite 
sure.     Do  you  know  if  she  came  out  of  tribulation?  " 
"Why  should  she?" 

"  Because  it  says,  about  those  in  white  robes  with  crowns : 
•These  are  they  which  came  out  of  great  tribulation,  and 
have  washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb.'  It  makes  me  feel  very  unhappy  sometimes 
because  I  haven't  been  through  tribulation  yet,  and  I  sha'n't 
be  ready  to  die  till  I  have." 

She  was  set  quickly  down  upon  her  feet,  and  without  a 
word  the  gentleman  left  her,  striding  down  the  aisle  and 
shuttmg  the  church  door  with  a  slam  that  echoed  and  re- 
echoed through  the  silent  church. 

Betty  was  startled  at  his  sudden  departure.  She  took  up 
her  dog  in  her  arms  again,  and  stood  gazir^-  silently  up  at 
the  window  above,  through  which  the  setting  sun  was  send- 
ing colored  rays  in  all  directions ;  then  with  a  little  sigh  she 
turned  and  left  the  church.  Outside  the  porch  was  a  gray- 
headed  old  man,  the  sexton,  who  was  taking  his  evening  walk 
among  the  graves. 

"  HuUoo! "  he  said,  "  be  ycu  the  one  that  banged  this  'ere 
door  just  now?  Twas  enough  to  scare  the  owls  and  bats 
and  all  the  other  beasties  from  their  holes  forevermore." 
"  No,  it  wasn't  me ;  it  was  a  gentleman." 
"Ah,  was  it,  now?  Shouldn't  be  surprised  if  I  knew  who 
it  was!  'Twas  Mr.  Russell,  surely!  There's  no  other  gent 
that  favors  this  'ere  buildin'  like  him." 

"  Is  he  Violet  Russell's  father?  "  questioned  Betty,  eagerly. 
The  old  man  nodded.  "Yes,  he  be  that  little  maid's 
parent,  and  he'll  never  get  over  her  loss.  She  were  the  apple 
of  his  eye,  and  when  she  were  took  he  were  like  a  man  de- 
mented. Ah,  'tis  the  young  as  well  as  the  old  I  have  to  die 
for!"  * 

48 


Prince 


"  Does  that  gentleman  live  here?  "  asked  Betty. 

"  Aye,  surely,  for  he  be  the  owner  of  the  whole  property 
hereabout.  But  'tis  not  money  will  give  comfort ;  he  have 
had  a  deal  o'  trouble.  I  mind  when  his  father  turned  him 
out  o'  doors  for  his  paintin'  and  sich  like  persoots.  And  he 
went  to  Italy,  and  there  he  taught  hisself  to  be  a  hartist,  and 
painted  and  carved  a  lot  o*  stone  figures ;  and  folks  say  he 
made  a  name  for  hisself  in  the  big  city.  He  were  taken 
back  by  his  father  after  a  bit,  and  came  a-coortin'  Miss 
Violet  Granger,  that  lived  over  at  Deemster  Hall.  But  his 
brother,  Mr.  Rudolph,  cut  him  out  when  he  went  off  to  Ger- 
many for  a  spell,  and  he  and  Miss  Violet  runned  away  to- 
gether, and  when  he  come  back  he  found  his  bride  stolen. 
He  were  terrible  cut  up,  and  off  he  goes  to  foreign  parts  again ; 
and  never  a  sight  of  he  did  us  get  till  the  old  squire  were 
dead,  and  Mr.  Rudolph  had  killed  hisself  ou^  huntin'.  Then 
Mr.  Frank  comes  home  agen  with  a  brand-new  wife,  and  we 
thought  as  how  his  life  were  a-mendin'  and  things  were  look- 
in'  up.  He  seemed  brighter  too ;  but  lackaday  !  'twere  not 
ten  months  afore  I  had  to  dig  a  grave  for  her ;  and  she  left 
him  a  two-day-old  babe  to  bring  up.  And  little  Miss  Violet 
were  the  joy  of  his  heart ;  she  were  a  purty,  bright  little  maid, 
and  were  out  on  her  little  pony  every  day  wi'  her  father.  She 
just  doted  on  him,  and  he  were  as  lovin'  as  a  woman  wi' 
her.  Then  there  come  the  day  when  the  little  maid  got  a 
ugly  fall  from  her  pony,  and  all  the  City  doctors  were  sent 
for,  but  could  do  no  good;  and  she  were  in  bed  a-wastin' 
away  for  nigh  a  twelvemonth,  and  then  she  died.  'Twere  a 
mercy,  for  she'd  have  been  a  hunchbacked  cripple  had  she 
lived  ;  and  Mary  Foster,  what  were  her  maid,  said  as  'ow  she 
suffered  terrible  at  times.  The  Lord  were  marciful  in  takin' 
of  her;  but  'tis  not  to  be  wondered  at  Mr.  Frank  takin'  it 
sorely.     And  then  he  shut  hisself  up  in  his  paintin'-room, 

49 


The  Odd  One 

and  never  corned  out  of  it  till  he  had  cut  the  litUe  maid's 
figure  out  in  stone,  like  as  you  see  it  in  the  church.    Manv's 
the  visitor  that  I've  a-taken  in  to  see  it,  and  the  ladies  they 
comes  away  sheddin'  tears  at  the  little  dear.   He  put  up  the 
CO  ored  window,  too,  and  comes  to  church  reg'lar;  but  he's 
hard  and  cold  like  the  stones  he  cut,  and  'tis  his  troubles  have 
spoiled  him     I  mind  he  were  a  bright-faced,  bonny  lad 
once,  that  I  used  to  show  birds'  nests  to  in  the  hedges- 
but  now  he  passes  me  wi'out  a  civil  word  or  look.     Aye 
below°  "      ^""^  '°"  '"'^  tribbylation  that  is  man's  lot  here 

Betty  listened  to  this  long  harangue  breathlessly.  Much 
of  It  she  could  not  follow,  but  the  old  man's  closing  sentence 
made  her  look  at  him  eagerly. 

"  Do  you  know  about  tribulation?  "  she  asked 
"  Me  know  of  it!     Aye,  surely,  when  I've  buried  six  sons 
and  daughters,  and  last  of  all  my  woife,  and  dug  all  their 
graves  mysel'.  save  two,  which  were  Jack  in  foreign  parts 

^nt  back  to  us  belongm'  to  him,  and  in  them  there  were  a 
bi  o  his  mother's  gray  hair,  which  he  had  cut  off  that  play- 
were  Sled  /"'  "T  -^"^  ''^"  ^'"^  -^^  ^°b.  thit 
were  killed  down  a  coal-mme,  and  we  could  never  get  at  his 

body :  and  he  left  a  widder  and  three  childer,  and  she  were 
mamed  to  one  o'  his  chums  afore  a  twelvemonth  past-the 
unfeelin'  hussy;  but  I've  washed  my  hands  of' the  lot. 
Aye  I  ye  been  through  troubles  and  tribbylation,  which  is 
our  lot  m  this  world ;  but  I've  had  a  .any  more  than  mo:: 

ing^hiz^hisr" '''"' " ''' ' " ''''  "^*^'  ^°°^- 

nuJiV^"^  "^"  ^"""^"^  ^'  ^"'  '^^"  "^^^'^  his  head  in  a 
puzzled  way. 

50 


Prince 

"  I'm  no'  so  sure  about  that,  little  lassie.  I've  seen  scores 
brought  into  this  churchyard  and  placed  in  my  graves,  but 
there  are  toimes  when  I  think  o'  seein'  mysel'  let  down  into 
a  strange  grave,  and  one  not  cut  half  so  foine  as  mine ;  for 
I'm  up  to  my  trade,  and  none  could  do  it  better;  and  I'm 
thinkin'  if  that  day  will  wait  till  I'm  ready  for  it— well,  'twill 
be  a  good  way  off  yet ! " 

Betty  knitted  her  brows  in  perplexity, 

"  If  you've  been  through  tribulation,  you  must  be  very 
nearly  ready  for  heaven— the  Bible  says  so." 

"  Aye,  do  it?  Let's  hear,  missy ;  for  sure  I've  had  my  lot 
o'  woe,  and  the  Lord  do  be  marciful!" 

For  a  second  time  that  afternoon  Betty  repeated  the  text 
that  wa.s  so  occupying  her  mind  and  thoughts.  The  old  man 
listened  attentively. 

"  You  see,"  said  Betty,  leaning  against  an  old  yew-tree  and 
hugging  Prince  close  to  her,  "  it's  the  first  part  that's  so  diffi- 
cult to  me,  but  it  must  be  quite  easy  for  you.  The  end  of 
it  fits  us  all,  but  the  tribulation  doesn't  fit  me." 

"And  what  be  the  end  of  It?  "  asked  the  sexton. 

"  It  says  they  washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white 
in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb." 

"  Aye,"  said  the  old  man,  after  a  minute's  silence,  "  and  'tis 
the  end  of  it  don't  fit  me." 

The  child  looked  up,  astonishment  coming  into  her  blue 
eyes. 

"  But  that's  very  easy,"  she  said ;  "  that  is  coming  to  Jesus 
and  asking  Him  to  wash  our  sins  away  in  His  blood.  I 
thought  everybody  did  that.  I  do  it  every  night,  because 
I'm  an  awful  wicked  girl.    I'm  always  forgetting  to  be  good." 

Again  there  was  silence.  The  old  man  looked  away  over 
the  hills  in  the  distance.  It  was  just  the  quietest  time  in  the 
evening ;  the  birds  were  already  in  their  nests  for  the  ;iight, 

51 


The  Odd  Or 

-even  the  rooks  had  subsfded,-and  the  stillness  and  peace 
around  drew  his  heart  and  mind  upward.  Betty  thought  he 
was  looking  at  the  sunset,  which  was  shedding  its  last  golden 
rays  over  the  nusty  blue  outlines  of  the  hillslcro.  the  hor " 

"  AnH     r  K  ' ,     ^T  *''  '""^  °'  ^''  ''^'^^  ^<^-««  his  eyes. 
And  who  be  they  that  the  Book  says  that  of?  "  he  asked. 

Why,  .t  s  the  people  in  heaven-every  one  who  dies   I 

s^ose.    I  like  to  think  of  them  there;  but'l  do  want  d read 

be  Ieft3  '"  ''''  '"'  ''""  '"'^'^  «°-^^--  I  «hall 

Tears  were  filling  the  earnest  little  eyes,  and  the  curly  head 

bent  over  Prince  to  hide  them.  ""yneaa 

shel^^'^ir'^  '^"  '"'°"'  ''°"'y'  "'^''  ™y  '"'^'«.  before 

than    now°    r"'  '°  ''7'  ''^"^'^  '"^'  ^"'^  '  ^^^^'^  ^«  -h-^er 

Ve  ne^,   ^  '^P'l'  '^^  ^"^"  ^»  ^bout  the  washin',  but 

ZZ:,^'  """^^  '-"^  ^°  -^  °-'  -^  ^'-  -tended 

witl^tw  ^ra^e'  ""^-''al  ^"'  T^  '°°^^'  "^ 
*^^  uiicrance,        i  m  always  dome  some  one 

harm;  and  nurse  will  scold  me  when  I  get  in  for  being  ou 

so  late-I  know  she  will.     Good-by,  old  man." 

She  put  Prince  down  on  the  grounJ  and  trotted  off  and 

the  old  sexton  looked  after  her  with  a  shake  of  his  head 

She  be  a  queer  httle  lass!     Aye,  I  would  be  glad  to  have 

at  the  old  Book  and  see  what  it  says  about  this  'ere  washin'." 


52 


VI 
MADE  INTO  A  COUPLE 

The  next  morning  being  Sunday,  the  three  elder  children 
were  taken  to  church  by  nurse.  It  was  a  small  village  con- 
gregation, and  Betty  looked  round  in  vain  for  her  friend 
Nesta.  She  saw  Mr.  Russell  standing  grim  and  solitary  in 
his  large,  old-fashioned  pew,  and  she  had  a  nod  from  the 
sexton  at  the  church  door.  The  clergyman's  wife  and  grown- 
up daughter  and  a  few  grandly  dressed  farmers'  wives  were 
the  only  others  who  occupied  seats  of  their  own.  The  organ 
was  played  by  ^  e  schoolmaster,  and  after  Nesta's  playing  it 
did  not  seem  the  same  instrument.  Betty  was  quieter  than 
her  brother  and  sister.  She  could  see  her  stained  window 
and  little  Violet's  figure  from  where  she  sat ;  she  could  even 
catch  sight  of  her  forget-me-nots,  now  looking  withered  and 
dead ;  and  her  thoughts  kept  her  restless  little  body  still. 
Molly  and  Douglas  did  not  like  church ;  their  fair  heads 
were  close  together,  and  occasionally  a  faint  sniggle  would 
cause  nurse  to  look  round  with  stem  reproval.  But  at  last 
the  long  service  was  over,  and  they  came  out  into  the  fresh, 
sweet  air  of  a  June  morning. 

Nurse  had  several  friends  to  talk  to  in  the  churchyard, 
and  Molly  and  Betty  walked  on  soberly  in  front  of  her,  feel- 
ing subdued  and  a  little  urcomfortable  in  their  stiff  white 
frocks  and  best  Leghorn  hats  and  feathers. 

53 


The  Odd  One 

"Where  is  Douglas?"  whispered  Betty. 
•'  Hush!  don't  let  nurse  know ;  he  saw  a  pair  of  legs  through 
a  little  hole  at  the  back  of  the  organ,  and  he's  gone  to  see  if 
it  is  a  robber  hiding." 

"  WiU  he  fight  him  if  it  is?  "  said  Betty,  with  an  awe-struck 
look.  Then,  an  expression  of  relief  crossing  her  face,  she 
said,  "  I  know ;  it's  a  boy  that  goes  in  at  the  back  whenever 
a  person  plays.  I  don't  know  what  he  does,  but  I've  seen 
him  there  before," 

"When  did  you  see  him?  "  asked  Molly,  eagerly. 
Betty's  private  adventures  never  remained  secret  for  long, 
and  she  poured  forth  a  long  account  of  her  various  visits  to 
the  church.  Molly  was  much  impressed,  but  Douglas's  re- 
turn soon  turned  her  thoughts  into  another  channel.  He 
looked  flushed  and  disheveled,  and  his  white  sailor  suit  was 
soiled  and  dusty ;  but  nurse  was  too  busy  talking  to  notice 
his  appearance,  and  he  joined  the  others  with  some  impor- 
tance in  his  tone. 

"  I've  made  a  discovery,"  he  said.     "  How  do  you  think 
a  church  organ  is  played?  " 

"  Like  a  piano,"  said  Molly,  promptly. 
"  It  isn't,  then ;  you  turn  a  handle  like  the  organs  in  the 
street,  and  a  man  or  boy  does  all  the  work  behind." 

The  little  girls  looked  skeptical,  and  Betty  said,  "  I'm  sure 
you  don't,  then,  for  we  can  see  the  person  playing." 

'  Well,  they're  only  pretending;  I've  seen  the  handle  my- 
self, and  the  boy  told  me  if  he  didn't  pull  it  up  and  down 
the  organ  wouldn't  play.  It  must  be  like  a  kind  of  duet, 
perhaps.  I  expect  he  makes  all  the  big,  booming  notes,  and 
the  squeaky  notes  are  made  by  the  person  in  front.  I've 
promised  him  a  part  of  my  money  if  he'll  let  me  play  instead 
of  him  one  day,  and  he  says  he  will." 

"  Nurse  won't  let  you  play  it  on  Sundays,"  said  Molly ; 


Made  into  a  G>uple 

"  besides,  you  won't  be  able  to  do  it  properly,  and  if  you 
made  a  mistake  it  would  be  awful." 

"  I  shall  play  it  on  a  week-day,  and  I'll  make  the  old 
organ  sound,  you  see  if  I  don't!" 

Directly  the  children  reached  home  Betty  flew  to  her  dog, 
who  had  been  shut  up  in  the  garret  while  they  had  been  at 
church.  Prince  was  already  getting  to  know  his  little  mis- 
tress, and  welcomed  her  back  with  short,  happy  barks  and  a 
great  many  licks ;  and  Betty  poured  out  all  her  heart's  love 
for  him  in  the  shape  of  caresses  and  pats  and  kisses,  whisper- 
ing in  his  silken  ears  many  a  secret,  and  hugging  him  to  her 
breast  with  a  passionate  vehemence  which  astonished  and 
amui^ed  those  who  saw  her. 

"  He  is  my  own,  my  very  own,"  she  kept  repeating,  "  and 
I  sh.-U  never  feel  odd  no  more!" 

She  did  not.  It  was  a  new  and  delightful  sensation  to  be 
one  of  a  couple.  "  Molly  and  Douglas,  Bobby  and  Billy, 
and  Prince  and  I,"  she  would  say.  No  longer  was  she  to 
trot  off  alone  in  some  of  their  games— Prince  was  always 
ready  to  go  with  her;  if  Molly  and  Douglas  were  deep  in 
some  conspiracy,  so  could  she  and  Prince  be ;  and  the  pent- 
up  feelings  and  thoughts  of  rather  a  lonely  little  heart  were 
poured  out  to  one  who  listened  and  sympathized  with  his 
soft  brown  eyes  and  curly  tail,  but  who  never  betrayed  the 
confidence  reposed  in  him. 

At  no  time  in  her  life  had  Betty  been  so  happy  as  she  was 
now;  her  little,  pensive  face  sparkled  with  gladness  when 
Prince  gamboled  by  her  side ;  and  nurse  asserted  that  the 
dog  kept  her  out  of  mischief  and  was  a  very  successful 
addition  to  their  party.  It  was  some  days  before  she  visited 
the  church  again,  but  when  she  did  the  org&n  was  sounding, 
and  she  found  her  friend  already  playing.  Rolling  Prince 
up  in  her  large  holland  overall  until  only  his  little  black  nc^:- 


The  Odd  One 

peeped  out,  Betty  crept  up  close  to  the  player  and  stood 
unnoticed  for  some  minutes.  Then  Nesta  Fairfax  turned 
round  and  gave  the  child  a  pleased  smik. 

"  My  little  friend  again ! "  she  said.  "  I  have  been  won- 
dering what  has  become  of  you.   Have  you  come  for  a  talk?  " 

"  No ;  only  to  listen  to  the  music,"  said  Betty. 

"  Then  I  will  go  on  playing." 

She  turnca  back  to  the  organ,  and  for  some  time  Betty 
listened  m  silence,  sitting  on  a  hassock  and  rocking  Prince 
backward  and  forward,  till,  warm  and  exhausted  with  his 
meffectual  struggles  to  free  himself,  he  fell  asleep  in  her 
arms. 

At  last,  when  there  was  a  pause  in  the  music,  Betty  said 
earnestly : 

"  Will  you  sing  again  what  you  did  when  I  thought  you 
were  an  angel?" 

"  What  was  it,  I  wonder?  " 

"It  was  about  'these  are  they  which  came  out  of  great 
tribulation'!"  * 

"  Oh  yes,  I  remember." 

And  the  sweet,  clear  voice  rang  out  through  the  silent 
church,  and  the  organ  rose  and  fell  to  the  beautiful  words 
till  Betty  could  hardly  bear  it. 

"  Is  it  over?  "  she  asked  as  the  last  note  died  away. 

Nesta  Fairfax  turned  her  glowing  face  upon  the  child. 
^^  "  You  love  it  as  much  as  I  do,  you  little  mite! "  she  saiu ; 
but  you  mustn't  cry.     Do  you  know  where  those  words 
come  from?" 

She  put  her  arms  round  her  and  drew  her  to  rest  against 
her  as  she  spoke. 

"Yes,"  said  Betty,  with  a  nod;  "I  know  all  about  them 
I've  read  it  sixty  hundred  times,  I  think,  and  I  know  that 
verse  by  heart.     I       nt  to  ask  you  about  it  " 
56 


Made  irto  a  Couple 


Nesta  waited,  and  with  a  little  effort  Betty  said : 

"  I  want  dreadfully  to  be  one  of  them  one  day,  and  I'm 
afraid  I  never  shall,  I  was  talking  to  the  old  man  who  digs 
graves  the  other  day ;  the  first  part  of  the  verse  doesn't  fit 
me,  and  the  last  doesn't  fit  him— at  least  he  said  so.  I 
wonder  if  both  parts  fit  you?  " 

Nesta  gazed  at  Betty  in  a  puzzled  kind  of  way,  then 
looked  away,  for  her  eyes  were  filling  with  tears. 

"  Perhaps  it  may,"  she  said  softly ;  "  I  should  like  to  think 
it  did." 

"And  can  you  tell  me  how  I  can  go  through  tribulation? 
I  want  to  get  it  over,  so  that  I  can  be  quite  ready  for  heaven." 

"  My  dear  child,  if  God  means  you  to  have  it,  He  will 
send  it  in  His  own  good  time.  Never  wish  for  troubles; 
they  will  come  fast  enough  as  you  grow  older." 

"  That's  what  nurse  says ;  she  tells  us  when  we  get  to  her 
age  we  shall  know  what  distress  and  trouble  is.  But  s'posing 
if  I  don't  live  to  grow  up?  Violet  didn't.  And  I'm  so 
afraid  I  may  not  get  inside  heaven.  I  may  be  left  out  of 
those  in  the  text,  because  I  haven't  been  through  tribulation. 
I  don't  want  to  be  left  out.  I  want  to  be  in  the  very  middle 
of  them  all!  I  want  to  stand  singing,  and  have  a  crown  and 
a  palm,  and  I  want  to  hear  some  one  ask  who  I  am ;  and 
then  I  want  to  hear  the  answer, '  She  came  out  of  tribulation ! ' 
Oh,  do  tell  me  how  I  can  go  into  it!  Mr.  Roper  said  you 
would  teach  me  a  lot  of  things." 

Betty's  voice  was  eloquent  in  her  beseeching  tone,  and 
Nesta  was  silent  for  a  moment ;  then  she  said : 

"Trouble  doesn't  take  us  to  heaven;  tribulation,  even 
martyrdom,  does  not.  Don't  you  know  what  does?  What 
did  Jesus  Christ  come  into  the  worid  for?  What  did  He 
die  for?  Will  you  sing  a  httle  hymn  with  me?  I  expect 
you  know  it." 

67 


The  Odd  One 

Betty  looked  delij,hir  1. 
"And  will  you  pLv  the  organ?" 
"  Yes." 

Then  Neata  began  to     •  g,  and  Betty's  sweet  little  voice 
chimed  in,  for  well  .      k  ..     the  words : 

"Thf.  f  ri  .T  .lill  far  away, 

By  I,  d  ,c  c    i  wall, 

Whei    ',••'  :\  .,-  ,   .rd  M:is  crucified, 

Wh  <  I-  1     ,.T  e  ni  al! 


"We^..•.^      IK    .- 

But  ■.,(       M'x.,  . 
He  h.  \g  ana  , 


)  bear ; 
u  as 
d  there. 


-11. 


"  He  die.'  that  vc  i,u>  U-  forgiven, 
He  died  to  make  lis  good. 
That  ve  might  go  at  last  u,  heaven, 
Savul  by  His  precious  blood. 

"  There  was  no  other  good  enough 
Tc  pay  the  price  of  sin ; 
He  only  could  unlock  the  gate 
Of  luaven  and  let  us  in. 

"  Oh,  dearly,  dearly  has  He  loved. 
And  we  must  love  Him  too. 
And  trust  in  His  redeeming  blood. 
And  try  His  works  to  do." 

"Now  can  you  tel!  me  why  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  died? 
What  does  the  hymn  say?  " 

"  He  died  that  we  may  be  forgiven, 
He  died  to  make  us  good," 
quoted  Betty,  slowly. 
"Goon." 

"  That  we  might  go  at  last  to  heaven, 
Saved  by  His  precious  blood." 
58 


Kbde  into  a  Coople 

"  Then  how  can  we  get  to  heaven?  " 

"  Because  Jesus  died  for  us." 

"  Yes,  He  died  to  let  you  go  to  heaven,  Betty ;  He  did  it 
all,  and  you  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  If  you  let  Jesus 
take  your  little  heart  and  wash  it  in  His  blood,  nothing  will 
ever  keep  you  out  of  heaven." 

"  But  if  I'm  naughty?"  asked  Betty.  "I've  asked  God 
so  often  to  give  me  a  new  heart  and  wa.sh  me  in  Jesus'  blood, 
and  sometimes  I  think  He  has  done  it ;  but  then  I'm  always 
getting  into  mi-<chief,  and  nurse  says  it's  only  the  good  chil- 
dren go  to  heaven." 

"  I  think  Jesus  will  teach  y  m  to  be  good  if  you  ask  Him, 
and  you  mustn't  expect  to  be  quite  good  all  at  once.  Alw  ays 
go  to  Him  when  you've  been  uighty,  and  tell  Him  ab  ut 
it,  and  ask  Him  to  help  y  ,u  tr  be  goch!.  He  loves  you, 
Betty,  ar.d  He  wiil  always  listen  to  you  nd  answer  your 
prayers.*' 

Betty'  Mue  eyes  were  looking  intently  at  the  speaker,  and 
her  little  lips  took  a  resolute  cur\'e. 

"  I  will  be  good,"  she  said  ;  "  I  do  love  Jesus,  and  I'll  ask 
Him  all  day  long  to  keep  me  from  being  naughty." 

Then  after  a  pause  she  said  : 

■   Have  you  gone  through  tribulation?' 

"  I  have  had  a  great  deal  of  trouble."  Ant;  a  sail  look 
came  over  Nesta's  f.-ice. 

"  My  old  man  said  he  had  had  a  lot  of  trouble,     ad  h 
told  me  Mr.  Rus.seli   had      Trouble    .Iways  -nc.   ,»  people 
dying,  doesn't  it?" 

"  There  are  troubles  worse  than  death,"  Nest  said  gravely ; 
''  God  grant  you  may  never  know  sue  *'  Then  with  a 
change  of  t  ne  %1h-  lid  brightly,  "  Don  I.  -k  for  trouble, 
darling;  Jesus  means  you  to  be  hay  '  -.  .Now  shall  we  sing 
one  more  h\mn?  and  then  I  must  iiy. 

50 


The  Odd  One 

Betty  joined  in  delightedly  when  Nesta  began : 
"  There's  a  friend  for  little  children." 

After  it  was  finished  Nesta  asked : 

"  What  did  you  mean,  Betty,  by  saying  that  a  Mr.  Roper 
had  told  you  I  would  teach  you?     Who  is  Mr.  Roper?  " 

Betty  told  her,  repeating  as  much  of  the  conversation  she 
had  had  with  him  as  she  could  remember ;  and  Nesta  laughed 
aloud  when  she  discovered  the  origin  of  the  "lady  who 
taught." 

"  He  meant  Mother  Nature,  Betty— a  very  different  teacher 
to  me." 

"  Do  you  know  her,  then?  Where  does  she  live?  " 
"  I  will  take  you  to  see  her  when  next  we  meet.  You 
see  her  every  day,  Betty.  Now  I  must  go.  Good-by. 
Is  rhis  a  little  doggy  you  have  rolled  up  in  your  pina- 
fore? I  thought  it  was  a  doU.  Now,  Dick,  you  can  come 
out." 

Dick  Green,  a  heavy-looking  village  boy,  appeared  from 
behind  the  organ  and  followed  Miss  Fairfax  down  the  aisle. 
But  Betty  waited ;  she  had  brought  two  roses  with  her  for 
Violet's  monument,  and  she  went  to  the  seat  upon  which  she 
had  laid  them,  and  took  them  round  to  the  other  side  of  the 
church,  where  she  deposited  them  in  the  usual  place.  Then 
calling  Prince,  who  had  been  awakened  from  his  sleep  and 
was  now  inspecting  every  corner  of  the  church  with  no.se  and 
paws,  Botty  set  off  homeward. 

Nesta  Fairfax  had  comforted  her,  but  had  not  entirely 
satisfied  her  perplexed  little  heart,  and  the  busy  brain  was 
still  trying  to  solve  the  problem. 

Betty  was  not  the  only  visitor  to  the  church  that  day. 

Douglas  disappeared  after  tea,  and  after  nearly  two  hours'^ 
absence  returned,  hot,  tired,  and  very  cross 
60 


J. 


Made  into  a  Coupk 

At  last  he  confided  to  Molly  that  he  had  been  to  play  the 
organ. 

"  And  I'm  awfully  afraid  I've  broken  the  horrid  old  thing, 
and  I  don't  like  that  Dick  Green!  He  took  my  money 
and  ran  off,  and  I  worked  the  handle  up  and  down  for  hours ; 
he  told  me  the  music  would  come  in  about  a  quarter  of  an 
hour.  It  never  did,  but  the  organ  gave  great  gasps  and 
groans ;  you  never  heard  such  a  noise— just  like  Mr.  Giles 
whe-  he  goes  to  sleep  after  tea!  It's  awfully  hard  work 
pulling  the  handle  up  and  down ;  I  hope  I  ha\en't  broke  it. 
I  think  it  wants  some  one  to  play  on  the  front  of  it,  but  the 
front  part  is  locked  up.  But  I've  had  a  kind  of  adventure. 
When  I  came  out  there  was  a  strange  gentleman  looking  at 
one  of  the  graves  in  the  church,  so  I  went  up  to  see  what  he 
was  looking  at,  and  it  was  the  stone  image  of  a  little  girl,  and 
there  were  some  pink  roses  in  her  hands." 

Betty  edged  up  close  to  her  brother  as  he  got  thus  far  and 
asked  eagerly,  "  What  'id  he  say  about  the  roses?  " 

"  He  looked  at  me  with  an  awful  frown,  and  I  folded  my 
arms  and  frowned  back— like  this." 

And  Douglas  rumpled  his  fair  brow  into  many  creases, 
and  looked  so  ferocious  that  Molly  was  quite  awed,  though 
disrespectful  Betty  laughed  aloud. 

•  '  What  are  you  doing  here  ? '  he  said.  '  Did  you  put 
these  roses  here?' 

"'No,'  I  said.  'Oughtn't  they  to  be  there?  I'll  take 
them  away.'  And  then  he  frowned  worse  than  ever  and  said, 
'  Don't  you  dare  to  lay  a  finger  on  them! '  and  then  he  mut- 
tered something  about  the  church  being  always  full  of  chil- 
dren now.  But  I  didn't  listen  to  him  much;  I  was  busy 
looking  at  the  little  girl  and  thinking,  and  then  I  made  up  a 
beautiful  story  on  the  spot ;  it's  something  like  some  of  the 
fairy  stories  we  read  in  our  big  books.     I'll  teli  it  to  you  in 

61 


i 


The  Odd  One 

a  minute.  I  said  to  him  that  I  thought  I  could  tell  him 
where  the  roses  came  from.  And  he  said,  '  Where? '  And 
then  I  said  to  him  that  the  little  girl  was  a  sleeping  beauty 
waiting  for  a  prince  to  come  along  and  kiss  her  and  wake 
her  up ;  but  he  hadn't  come  yet,  so  a  fairy  was  watching  her 
till  he  came,  and  every  moonlight  night  she  would  bring  some 
flowers  in,  and  creep  inside  them  and  sleep  with  her  to  keep 
all  the  goblins  off,  and  she  would  sing  her  songs  in  the  night, 
and  tell  her  stories,  and  comfort  her—" 

"  But,"  interrupted  Molly,  "if  she  was  asleep,  how  could 
she  hear  the  fairy?  " 

"You're  too  sharp!  Perhaps  you'll  wait.  I  was  just 
going  to  say  that  in  the  night  she  was  able  to  open  her  eyes, 
only  she  couldn't  get  up.  I  had  just  got  as  far  as  that  when 
the  gentleman  said,  'Pshaw!'  and  then  he  told  me  to  run 
off,  and  not  come  into  the  church  again  to  tomfool— that's 
what  he  said.  He  was  a  kind  of  dark,  grim-looking  ogre, 
and  I'll— well,  I  shall  have  more  to  do  with  him  yet!" 

This  awful  threat  was  accompanied  with  a  very  significant 
shake  of  the  flaxen  head;  but  Betty  cried  out  hotly: 

"  You  don't  kno./  anything  about  it!     He's  the  father  of 
that  little  giri,  and  he  goes  to  her  grave  to  say  his  prayers 
and  cry.     I  know  m jre  about  him  than  you  do,  so  there! " 
"  'v  hat  do  you  know?  " 

But  Betty  walked  off,  hugging  Prince  under  her  arm,  and 
calling  out  as  she  went,  with  a  spice  of  superiority  in  her 
tone,  "  Prince  and  I  know  aU  about  him  and  her  and  the 
roses ;  that's  our  secret." 


62 


VII 


HAYMAKING 

It  was  only  a  few  days  after  this  that  nurse  took  all  the 
children  to  tea  at  an  old  farm-house  about  two  mi'es  off. 
They  rode  part  of  the  way  in  a  farm-wagon,  and  were  all  in 
the  best  of  spirits,  for  it  was  haymaking  time— a  time  of  en- 
trancing joy  to  all  children,  and  to  the  little  Stuarts  a  new 
and  delightful  experience.  They  had  tea  out  in  one  of  the 
fields  under  a  shady  elm,  and  were  just  separating  after  it 
was  over  to  have  one  more  romp  in  the  hay,  when,  to  Betty's 
intense  surprise,  who  should  come  across  the  field  but  Nesta 
Fairfax.  She  evidently  knew  Mrs.  Crump,  the  farmer's  wife, 
well,  for  she  sat  down  and  began  chatting  away  about  all  her 
family,  and  then  she  caught  sight  of  Betty. 

"Why,  it's  my  little  friend!"  she  said,  stooping  down  and 
kissing  her ;  "  and  are  these  your  brothers  and  sister  ?  " 

Betty  got  crimson  with  delight,  and  introduced  one  after 
the  other  with  great  importance,  and  Nesta  won  all  their 
hearts  at  once  by  joining  them  in  their  frolic.  Her  laugh 
was  as  gay  as  theirs,  and  she  could  run  as  fast  as  any  of 
them. 

"You're  rather  a  nice  grown-up  person,"  said  Douglas, 
approvingly,  as  at  last  slie  took  her  leave;  "you  aren't  so 
dull  and  stupid  as  grown-up  people  generally  are.    Will  you 

63 


The  Odd  One 

come  and  see  us  one  day  at  our  farm?  I'll  take  you  to  see 
the  sweetest  white  mice  in  the  stable  that  Sam  keeps,  and 
tl-.ere  s  heaps  of  easy  trees  to  climb  in  the  orchard  if  you  like 

chmbing!" 

'  And  I'll  show  you  a  baby  calf  only  two  days  old,"  put 
in  Molly,  "  and  three  black-and-white  kittens  in  a  loft,  with 
a  lot  of  apples  one  end ;  we've  jolly  things  at  our  farm,  if 
you'll  only  come." 

"  And  a  see-saw  and  a  swing,"  added  the  twins. 

"And  what  will  Betty  show  me?"  asked  Nesta,  amused. 

"  I  think  I'll  show  you  the  flowers,  and  the  forget-me-nots, 
and  water-cress  in  the  brook,"  said  Betty,  meditatively. 

"  Then  I  really  must  come,  with  such  an  enchanting  pro- 
gram  before  me,"  said  Nesta.  And  she  kissed  them  all  round, 
told  nurse  she  envied  hei  Jer  little  family,  cracked  some  jokes 
with  old  Crump  and  his  wife,  and  departed,  leaving  behind 
her  a  breezy  brightness  and  cheeriness  that  she  brough*  with 
her  wherever  she  came. 

"  A  pleasant  young  lady,"  said  nurse ;  "  who  is  she,  Mrs. 
Crump?" 

"  Ah,  well,"  said  Mrs.  Crump,  shaking  her  head  solemnly, 
"  there's  a  sad  story  attached  to  the  family.  My  niece,  what 
the  master  and  I  have  brought  up  like  one  of  our  own  chil- 
dren, has  got  the  sitivation  as  maid  to  Mrs.  Fairfax,  and  she 
knows  all  the  ins  and  outs  of  their  trouble  as  no  one  else  do. 
You  see,  this  is  how  it  is.  They  were  a  City  family,  and 
come  down  here  first  for  change  of  air.  They  took  lodgings 
in  Mrs.  Twist's  farm ;  there  were  Mrs.  Fairfax  and  the  two 
young  ladies,  and  a  dashing  young  gentleman,  the  son,  who 
came  down  for  a  day  or  two  at  a  time,  but  he  never  stayed 
long.  Mrs.  Fairfax  were  proud  as  proud  could  be,  and  very 
cold  and  stern  like,  except  to  her  son,  so  Jane  says ;  and  him 
.she  couldn't  do  enough  for— her  heart  was  just  bound  up  in 
64  *^ 


Haymaking 

him!     Jane  went  back  with  them  to  the  City,  but  she  says 
the  way  the  young  gentleman  went  on  were  enough  to  break 
any  mother's  heart.    He  was  fast  going  to  the  bad ;  and  yet 
his  mother,  though  she  would  scold  and  fume  at  times,  never 
seemed  to  see  it,  and  paid  his  debts  and  let  him  have  his 
fling.     Miss  Nesta  were  engaged  to  be  married,  and  Jane 
says  her  lover  did  all  he  could  to  stand  by  her  brother  and 
keep  him  straight,  but  it  weren't  no  good  whatever.     And 
about  two  year  ago  the  end  came.     Mr.  Arthur  had  some 
trouble  over  a  gaming-table ;  that  was  the  beginning ;  then 
he  went  and  signed  a  bank-check  that  wasn't  his,— I  believe 
as  how  it  is  called  forging,— and  the  gentleman  whose  check 
it  was  had  him  up  in  court ;  he  wouldn't  hush  it  up,  and  it 
was  the  talk  of  all  the  City,  so  Jane  tells  me.     His  mother 
would  have  paid  up,  though  it  would  have  ruined  her,  but 
she  weren't  allowed ;  and  he  were  sent  to  prison  across  the 
seas  for  seventeen  years.     Jane  says  Mrs.  Fairfax  seemed 
turned  to  stone ;  she  shut  up  the  City  house  and  went  abroad 
to  some  foreign  place  with  a  long  name— I  forgets  it  now; 
and  then  she  comes  back  and  takes  Holly  Grange,  which  is 
as  nice  an  old  house  as  ever  you  see,  and  belonged  to  a 
Colonel  Sparks  who  died  only  a  twelvemonth  ago,  and  is 
about  a  mile  from  here,  over  against  that  wood  you  see 
yonder.     But  I'm  tiring  of  you  with  this  long  tale." 

"  I  like  to  hear  it,"  said  nurse ;  and  so  did  Betty,  though 
a  good  deal  of  it  was  incomprehensible  to  her.  She  sat  with 
Prince  in  her  arms  on  the  grass  close  by,  and  her  quick  little 
ears  were  listening  to  every  word. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Crump,  with  a  sigh,  "  there  ain't  much 
more  to  tell.  Jane  says  Mrs.  Fairfax  shuts  herself  up  and 
won't  see  a  single  visitor.  Miss  Grace,  the  eldest  daughter, 
who  was  never  very  strong,  has  become  a  confirmed  invalid,' 
with  very  crotchety  and  fidgety  ways,  and  makes  every  one 

65 


The  Odd  One 

miserable  who  comes  near  her.     Miss  Nesta  is  the  only  one 
that  keeps  bright;  and  Jane  says  her  temper  is  that  sweet, 
she  bears  with  all  her  sister's  crossness  and  unreasonableness, 
and  her  mother's  icy  coldness,  like  an  angel.     She  have  had 
her  troubles,  too,  poor  thing!    Jane  tells  me  that  it  was  Mrs. 
Fairfax  made  her  break  off  her  engagement  with  her  lover; 
he  were  some  relative  of  the  gentleman  that  lost  the  check, 
and  she  wouldn't  have  the  engagement  go  on  on  no  account. 
Jane  says  her  lover  had  a  talk  with  Mrs.  Fairfax ;  and  he 
were  rather  a  high  and  mighty  gentleman,  and  he  left  the 
room  as  white  as  death,  and  declared  he  would  never  set 
foot  in  the  house  again.     Jane  thinks  Mrs.  Fairfax  was  be- 
side herself  at  the  time  and  must  have  insulted  him  fearful. 
Anyhow,  it  all  came  to  an  end.    It's  a  world  of  trouble,  Mrs. 
Duff.     But  I  feel  very  sorry  I'or  Miss  Nesta.     The  other 
ladies  hardly  ever  leave  the  house  or  grounds,  and  they  would 
like  to  keep  Miss  Nesta  in  as  well ;  but  she  comes  across  to 
me  and  has  a  chat,  and  she  reads  a  chapter  and  has  prayers 
with  grandfather.   She's  a  very  good  young  lady,  and  no  one 
would  think,  to  look  at  her,  what  she  have  come  through." 

"  Has  she  come  through  tribulation?  "  asked  Betty,  look- 
ing up  suddenly. 

"Well,  I  never  did!  To  think  of  that  child  a-taking  it 
all  in! "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Crump.  "  What  do  you  know  about 
tribulation,  little  missy?  " 

"  It  means  trouble  or  distress,  I  know."  And  Betty's  face 
was  very  wistful  as  she  spoke. 

"  Run  along  and  play  with  the  others,"  said  nurse,  quickly, 
"and  don't  worry  your  head  over  other  people's  troubles. 
There  is  plenty  of  it  in  the  world,  but  your  time  hasn't  come 
for  it  yet." 

"I  wish  it  would  come,"  said  Betty,  softly,  "and  then  I 
could  put  myself  in  that  text." 
69 


/ 


Haymaking 

But  only  Prince  heard  the  whispered  words,  and  he  wagged 
his  tail  in  sympathy. 

It  was  that  night  that  Betty  added  another  clause  to  her 
evening  prayers.  She  generally  said  them  aloud  at  nurse's 
knee,  but  it  was  not  the  first  time  that  she  had  said,  "  I  want 
to  whisper  quite  a  secret  to  God,"  and  nurse  always  let  her 
have  her  way. 

"  She  is  a  queer  little  thing,"  she  told  her  brother ;  "some- 
times naughtier  and  more  contrary  than  all  the  rest  put  to- 
gether, and  sometimes  so  angel-like  that  I  wonder  if  she  won't 
have  an  early  death.  But  there's  no  knowing  how  to  take 
her! " 

Betty's  secret  was  this : 

"  And  please,  God,7orgive  Prince  his  sins  and  take  him  to 
heaven  when  he  dies,  and  let  me  come  through  great  tribu- 
lation, so  that  I  may  be  like  your  people  in  heaven." 

When  haymaking  commenced  at  Brook  Farm  the  children's 
delight  knew  no  bounds.  Every  moment  of  the  day  they 
were  out  in  the  fields,  and  as  the  great  cart-loads  of  hay 
were  dnven  off  they  felt  proud  and  pleased  with  having 
helped  in  the  work.  Prince  enjoyed  it  as  much  as  any  one, 
but  he  never  left  his  little  mistress's  side  for  long.  One 
evening,  as  the  tired  haymakers  were  resting  after  having 
placed  the  last  load  on  the  wagon,  Betty,  dancing  by  the 
cart,  was  inspired  to  ascend  the  ladder  which  had  been  left 
against  it. 

"Come  on,"  she  shouted  to  Douglas  and  Molly,  "and 
we'll  have  a  ride  home." 

Up  they  went,  unnoticed  by  any,  and  danced  up  and  down 
with  delight  when  they  reached  the  top.  Then  nurse  dis- 
covered them,  and  in  her  fright  and  anxiety  at  their  risky 
position  she  rushed  toward  them  and  screamed  aloud.  The 
horses,  startled,  swerved  hastily  aside,  and  Douglas,  danger- 

67 


The  Odd  One 

ouf'v  near  the  edge,  overbalanced  himself  and  fell  with  a 
ten.ole  thud  to  the  ground.  It  was  the  work  of  a  moment 
to  seize  him  and  drag  him  from  the  wheels,  which  mercifully 
did  not  touch  him ;  but  he  was  carried  into  the  house  stunned 
and  insensible,  and  Molly  and  Betty,  with  scared,  white  faces, 
were  taken  down  and  sent  indoors. 

"  It's  your  fault,"  whispered  Molly  to  the  frightened  Betty ; 
"you  made  us  come  up.  And  now  Douglas  will  die!  I 
think  he's  dead  akeady.  You'll  be  a  miu-derer,  and  you'll 
be  sent  to  prison  and  hung! " 

And  Betty  quite  believed  this  assertion,  and  crept  up  to 
the  passage  outside  Douglas's  bedroom,  trembling  with  ex- 
citement and  fright.  She  crouched  down  in  a  comer,  and 
Prince  came  up,  put  his  two  paws  on  her  shoulder,  and  licked 
her  face  with  a  little  wistful  whine.  It  was  a  long  time  be- 
fore nurse  came  out  of  the  room,  and  then  she  wasted  very 
few  words  on  the  little  culprit. 

"  Go  to  bed,  you  naughty  child,  and  tell  Miss  Molly  to 
go  too.  You  are  never  safe  from  mischief,  and  it's  a  mercy 
your  brother  hasn't  been  killed." 

"  Will  he  get  better,  nurse?  " 

But  nurse  made  no  reply,  and  both  little  girls  were  long 
before  they  got  to  sleep  that  night,  so  fearful  were  their 
conjectures  as  to  the  fate  of  their  brother. 

Douglas  was  only  stunned  for  the  time  and  very  nuch 
bruised  and  shaken.  Nurse  kept  him  in  bed  for  two  or  three 
days,  and  the  two  little  girls  were  unremitting  in  their  care 
and  attention.  He  accepted  their  services  with  much  com- 
placency, and  enjoyed  his  important  and  interesting  position. 

"  What  would  you  two  girls  have  done  if  I  had  died?  "  he 
asked.     "  Who  would  have  been  your  leader  then?  " 

"  You're  not  my  leader,"  said  Betty,  promptly.    "  No  one 
is  my  leader ;  I  l^ad  myself." 
68 


HAymaklng 

"I  don't  know  what  I  should  have  done"  said  Molly, 
pensively.  "  I  should  have  had  to  go  about  with  Betty  then. 
You  see,  I  should  have  her,  and  the  twins  have  themselves. 
I  don't  think  Bobby  and  Billy  would  miss  any  of  us  much  if 
we  were  to  die.  We  should  be  equal  if  you  died,  Douglas 
—two  and  two;  but  I'm  gird  you're  going  to  get  better." 

"  You  wouldn't  have  gone  about  with  me,  Molly,"  said 
Betty,  with  a  decisive  shake  of  her  head,  as  she  stooped  to 
caress  Prince  at  her  feet,  "  because  you  would  have  been  one 
too  many.  We  are  two  and  two  without  you.  I  don't  want 
any  one  with  me  but  Prince.  You  wruld  have  to  be  the 
odd  one  if  Douglas  died,  like  I  used  to  be." 

"  Prince  is  only  a  dog,"  said  Molly,  with  a  little  curl  of 
h'?r  lip.     "  I  wouldn't  make  two  with  a  dog." 

Betty's  eyes  sparkled  dangerously. 

"  Prince  is  ever  so  much  nicer  than  you  are — much  nicer; 
and  you're  jealous  because  he  likes  me  and  not  you.  He's 
my  very  own,  and  I  love  him,  and  he  loves  me ;  and  I  love 
him  better  than  all  the  people  in  the  world  put  together,  so 
there!" 

"  You  needn't  get  in  a  temper.  He's  a  silly,  stupid  kind 
of  a  dog,  and  Mr.  Giles  said  yesterday,  if  he  caught  him 
chasing  his  sheep  round  the  field,  he  would  give  him  a  good 
beating ;  and  I  hope  he  will,  for  he  nearly  chased  the  sheep 
yesterday." 

"  When  you  two  have  done  fighting,  I  should  like  to  speak. 
My  head  aches.  I  think  I  should  like  some  of  the  jelly  nurse 
made  for  me ;  it  will  make  it  better." 

The  little  girls'  rising  wrath  subsided.  Both  rushed  to 
fulfil  Douglas's  desire ;  for  had  not  nurse  left  them  in  charge, 
and  had  she  not  also  w.irned  them  against  exciting  him  by 
loud  talking  and  noise? 

"  I'm  glad  you  will  get  better,"  said  Betty,  presently.    "  I 

69 


The  Odd  One 

saw  Misi  Fairfax  in  church  yesterday,  and  she  asked  me  how 
you  were." 

"  What  were  you  doing  in  church?  "  demanded  Douglas. 
"  It  wasn't  Sunday." 

"  Prince  and  I  go  to  church  very  often,"  said  Betty,  putting 
on  a  prim  h'ttle  air.  "  We  have  several  businesses  there,  but 
we  don't  tell  every  one  what  we  do." 

•'  Do  you  play  the  organ  ?  "  asked  Douglas,  a  little  eagerly. 
"  No;  but  we  hear  it  played,  and  we  sing,  and  we— well, 
we  do  lots  of  other  things." 

"  I  shall  come  with  you  next  time  you  go."  And  Doug- 
las's tone  was  firm. 

"No,"  said  Betty;  "you'll  be  one  too  many.  I  don't 
want  Molly,  and  I  don't  want  you.  I've  got  Prince,  and  I 
don't  want  no  one  else." 

It  was  thus  she  aired  her  triumphs  daily,  and  it  was  by 
such  speeches  that  she  revealed  how  much  she  had  felt  and 
suffered  in  times  past  by  being  so  constantly  left  out  in  the 
cold.   And  Prince  was  daily  becoming  more  and  more  com- 
panionable.    Not  one  doubt  did  Betty  ever  entertain  as  to 
his  not  understanding  or  caring  for  her  long  confidences.    He 
slept  in  a  little  basket  at  the  foot  of  her  bed.     She  was 
wakened  by  his  wet  kisses  in  the  morning,  and  he  liked  noth- 
ing better  than  snuggling  into  bed  with  her.     Tucking  his 
httle  black  nose  under  her  soft  chin,  he  would  place  a  paw 
on  each  of  her  shoulders  and  settle  off  ii.to  a  reposeful  sleep  • 
while  Betty  would  lie  perfectly  still,  gazing  at  him  with  loving 
eyes,  and  every  now  and  then  giving  him  a  gentle  squeeze 
and  murmuring,  "You're  my  very  own,  my  darling,  and  I 
love  you." 


n 


VIII 

GOiyS  PATCHWORK 

"  Good-mornin'  to  you,  little  maid." 

Betty  and  Prince  had  been  straying  through  the  lanes,  and 
had  suddenly  come  upon  the  old  sexton,  who  was  leaning 
over  his  cottage  gate  smoking  a  short  clay  pipe. 

Betty's  face  dimpled  with  smiles. 

"May  I  come  in  and  see  your  little  house?"  she  asked. 
"  Prince  and  I  want  something  to  do.  Douglas  and  Molly 
are  lying  in  a  hammock  and  making  up  stories,  and  the  twins 
are  no  company." 

"Come  in,  come  in,  my  dear,  and  welcome;  but  'tis  a 
lonesome  kind  o'  home  with  only  me  in  it ;  'twas  very  differ- 
ent once  on  a  time." 

He  led  the  way  up  a  narrow  path  through  rows  of  cab- 
bages and  sweet  peas,  and  ushered  her  into  a  tiny  kitchen, 
clean,  but  rather  untidy.  Betty  looked  round  with  a  child's 
admiring  eyes.  There  were  great  shells  on  the  mantelpiece, 
a  stuffed  owl  on  a  sidelward,  and  lots  of  other  quaint  curi- 
osities on  some  shelves  in  a  recess. 

Then  she  climbed  into  a  big  rocking-chair. 

"  This  is  lovely,"  she  said ;  "  it's  almost  as  good  as  a  rock- 
ing-horse, if  you  go  very  fast." 

The  old  man  stood  looking  at  her  for  a  minute,  then  seated 

71 


i 


i 


TiicOddOnc 

himself  on  the  low  window-seat  and  went  on  smoking.  When 
Betty  had  swung  herself  violently  to  and  fro  for  some  min- 
utes, she  asked : 

"  Have  you  been  busy  digging  graves  to-day?  " 
"  No ;  'tis  a  fortnight  since  I  had  one ;  the  season  has  bfn 
rare  and  healthy." 

"  Then  what  have  you  been  doing?  "  demanded  the  child 
"  Oh,  I  don't  let  the  time  slip  by ;  there  are  a  many  things 
I  turn  my  hand  to.     I  digs  my  'taters  up,  and  gardens  a  bit 
first  thmg  m  the  mornin',  and  I  cleans  up  in  my  churchyard 
and  then  I  cooks  a  bit  o'  dinner  and  has  a  bit  o'  gossip  with 
my  neighbors.     I'm  a  sociable  sort  o'  chap,  though  I'm  so 
lonesome.     And  I  has  a  bit  o'  readin'  on  occasions.     Are 
you  a-thinkin-  any  more  o'  that  'ere  tex'  that  we  was  a-argu- 
fym*  on  t'other  artemoon?  " 
Betty  nodded. 

"  I'm  always  thinking  of  it,"  she  said,  stopping  the  motion 
of  the  chair  and  looking  up  at  him  with  grave,  earnest  eyes. 
"  Ah,  well,  so  am  I !  I've  had  a  good  bit  o'  readin',  too  • 
'tis  a  most  important  thing,  the  Bible  be,  and  I've  been  giv- 
in'  a  good  bit  o'  my  mind  to  it  latterly.  'Twas  your  calm 
tone  of  sayin'  I  must  be  ready  to  die  if  I'd  bin  through 
tnbbylation  started  me  off.  I  couldn't  quite  make  out  about 
the  washin',  and  so  I've  a-looked  it  up.  And  I've  found 
out  from  the  old  Book  that  I'm  as  black  a  sinner  as  ever 
lived  on  this  'ere  blessed  earth." 

^    "How  dreadful!"  Betty  said  in  an  awed,  shocked  tone- 
and  you  told  me  you  were  so  good !    I  never  knew  grown- 
up people  were  wicked;   I  thought  it  was  only  children. 
What  made  you  find  it  out  ?  " 

"  Well,  'twas  readin'  what  we  ought  to  live  like  first  knocked 
me  down.  I  got  a-lookin'  through  them  there  episdes,  and 
got  awful  cast  down.     And  then  I  thinks  to  mysel',  p'r'aps. 


■i 


God's  P*tdiwork 

arter  all,  Paul  and  such  like  were  lo'  severe ;  -.o  I  went  to 
the  gospels,  for  I've  always  heerd  the  gospels  tell  of  love, 
and  not  judgment;  but  I  wasn't  comfortei'  hy  them,  not  a 
bit— not  even  when  I  turned  up  the  sheep  chapter  that  I 
used  for  to  learn  at>  a  little  'un.  It  says  there,  '  My  sheep 
hear  My  voice,  and  I  know  them,  and  they  follow  Me.'  Ami 
I  says  to  myself,  'Reuben,  you've  n''ver  a-listened  to  His 
voice ;  you've  a-gone  your  own  way  ill  \  our  life  through,  and 
you  ain't  a-follered  Him  '>ne  day  in  ail  the  sixty  and  eight 
years  you've  a-bin  on  this  'ere  blesM  I  earth"  Well,  I  began 
to  think  I'd  better  w>  that  prnyer  ni)  dear  ot  1  missis  a-told 
me :  '  Wash  me,  and  I  shall  !  c  wliiter  than  sno  v.'  And  then 
'twas  last  Toosday  night  ab  iut  seven  o'clock  I  g.)t  tlie  an- 
swer." 

The  old  man  paused,  took  ins  i>i;  ■  ut  •  t  nis  mcith,  and 
looked  up  at  the  blackened  rafters  across  his  litilc  kitdien 
with  a  quivering  smile  about  'lis  lips,  wh.ie  Iktty,  with  knitted 
brows,  tried  hard  to  follow  him  in  what  he  was  saving. 

"  I  was  a-tumin'  over  the  leaves  of  the  old  Book,  '  he  con- 
tinued, "when  I  come  to  a  tex'  which  stared  me  fu.I  in  the 
face,  and  round  it  was  penciled  .!  thick  i)la(k  line,  which  was 
the  doin'  of  my  nissis.     I'll  read  it  for  you,  little  maid." 

He  rose  and  took  i>om  the  shelf  a  large  family  Bible. 
Placing  it  on  the  table,  he  turned  over  iu  leaves  with  a 
trembling  hand,  and  then  his  voice  rang  out  with  a  solemn 
triumph  in  it :  "  '  Come  now,  and  let  us  reason  together,  saith 
the  Lord :  though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  >hall  be  as 
white  as  snow ;  though  they  be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall 
be  as  wool.'  My  knees  began  to  tremble,  for  I  says  to  my- 
-t  If,  '  Reuben,  'tis  the  Lord's  voice  to  thee.'  And  I  drops 
down  on  the  floor,  just  where  you're  a-sittin',  missy,  and  I 
says,  'Amen,  so  be  it.  Lord.'  I  gets  up  with  a  washed  soul 
—washed  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb." 

73 


i 


* 


The  Odd  One 

There  was  silence;  the  old  man's  attitude,  his  upward 
gaze,  his  solemn  emphasis,  awed  and  puzzled  Betty. 

"  And  now  you're  in  the  text! "  she  said  at  Ust,  somewhat 
wistfully,  as  she  drew  Prince  to  her  and  lifted  him  into  her 
lap. 

"  I  shall  be  one  o'  these  days,  for  certain  sure,"  was  old 
Reuben's  reply ;  "  but  'tis  the  Lord  that  will  put  me  there— 
'tis  His  washin'  that  has  done  it." 

'  That's  what  Miss  Fairfax  said ;  she  said  it  wasn't  tribu- 
lation would  bring  us  to  heaven.     She  made  me  sing : 

'  There  was  no  other  good  enough 
To  pay  the  price  of  sin ; 
He  only  could  unlock  the  gate 
Of  heaven  and  let  us  in.' 

But  I'm  quite  sure  God  won't  mean  me  to  stand  in  the  middle 
of  those  people  round  the  throne,  if  I  haven't  been  through 
tribulation;  I'm  quite  sure  He  won't!  I  shall  find  myself 
in  a  mistake  if  I  try  to  creep  in  among  them ;  and  oh,  I 
want  to  be  there!  I  want  to  be  there!" 

Tears  were  welling  up,  and  Prince  wondered  why  he  was 
clutched  hold  of  so  convulsively  by  his  little  mistress. 

Reuben  looked  at  her,  rubbed  his  head  a  little  doubtfully, 
and  then  straightened  himself  up  with  a  sudden  resolve. 

"  Look  here,  little  maid^  you  just  a-foller  me ;  I'm  a-goin' 
to  the  chiu-ch." 

Up  Betty  sprang ;  her  tears  were  brushed  away ;  and  she 
and  Prince  danced  along  by  the  side  of  the  old  man,  her 
doubts  and  fears  dispersing  for  the  time. 

But  Reuben  was  very  silent.     He  led  her  itito  the  cool, 
dark  church  and  up  the  side  aisle  to  the  tomb  of  little  Violet 
Russell.     There  he  stopped  and  directed  the  child's  gaze 
above  it  to  the  stained-glass  window. 
74 


God's  Patchwork 


"  Can  you  read  the  tex',  little  maid?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Betty,  brightly ;  "  why,  even  Bobby  and  Billy 
know  that :  '  Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto  Me,  and 
forbid  them  not.' " 

"  And  that's  what  the  Lord  says,"  the  old  man  went  on. 
"  Did  He  say  the  children  were  to  have  tribbylation  afore 
they  comed  to  Him?  Why,  for  sure  not!  And  if  you,  little 
missy,  go  straight  into  His  arms  when  you  gets  to  heaven, 
you'll  be  safe  enough,  and  He'll  know  where  to  put  you." 

Betty's  little  face  beamed  all  over. 

"And  He  will  love  me  even  if  I  haven't  been  through 
tribulation  ?  " 

"  Why,  for  sure  He  will." 

Betty  gave  a  happy  little  sigh. 

"  I  tell  you  what,  now,"  Reuben  added ;  "  if  you're  a- 
wantin'  to  have  tribbylation  made  clear  to  you,  I'll  take  you 
down  to  see  old  Jenny— 'praychin'  Jenny,"  she  used  to  be 
called,  for  she  used  to  hold  forth  in  chapel  better  than  a 
parson.  And  she's  bin  bedridden  these  twelve  year ;  but  she 
can  learn  anybody  about  the  Bible.  She  knows  tex's  by 
thousands.  There  bain't  no  one  can  puzzle  Jenny  over  the 
Bible." 

"  Is  she  ver>'  ill?  "  asked  Betty. 

"  She's  just  bedridden  with  rheumatics,  that's  all ;  but  'tis 
quite  enough,  and  I  was  calkilatiti'  only  t'other  day  that  I'll 
have  to  be  diggin'  her  grave  afore  Christmas." 

"  Will  you  take  me  to  see  her  now?  " 

"  For  sure  I  will." 

Out  of  the  cool  church  they  went,  and  along  the  hot,  dusty 
road,  till  they  reached  a  low,  thatched  cottage  by  the  wayside. 
Reuben  lifted  the  latch  of  the  door  and  walked  right  in. 

There  was  a  '  ig  screen  just  inside  the  door,  and  a  voice 
asked  at  once : 


?a 


I 


i 


The  Odd  One 

"Who  be  there?" 

"  Tis  only  Reuben  and  a  h'ttle  lass  that  wants  to  see  you  " 
And  Betty  was  led  round  the  screen  to  a  big  four-post  bed 
with  spotlessly  clean  hangings  and  a  wonderful  patchwork 
qu.lt.  Lying  back  on  the  pillows  was  one  of  the  sweetest 
old  women  that  Betty  had  ever  seen.  A  close  frilled  night- 
cap surrounded  a  cheery,  withered  face-a  face  that  looked 
as  'f  nothing  would  break  the  placid  smile  upon  it,  nothing 
would  dim  the  joy  and  peace  shining  through  the  faded  blue 
eyes. 

Betty  held  out  her  little  hand. 

"  How  do  you  do?  "  she  said.    "  This  old  man  has  brought 
me  to  see  you;  he  said  you  would  tell  me  about  tribulation  " 

.u  uTr""  ^''^'  ""'^  ^'""^  ■  ^''^'  ^^'  "P  o"  t'^e  foot  of 
the  bed,  Reuben.  Why,  what  a  bonny  little  maid!  And 
who  may  she  be?" 

"She  be  lodgin' at  Farmer  Giles's,  and  be  troubled  in  her 
mind  concarnin'  tribbylation." 

The  old  woman  reached  over  and  laid  a  wrinkled  hand  on 
the  soft,  childish  one. 

"  Then  tell  old  Jenny,  deary,  what  it  is." 

Betty  was  quite  ready  to  do  so,  and  pour.d  forth  such  a 
long,  incoherent  story  that  it  was  very  difficult  to  understand 
her.     Jenny  did  not  quite  take  in  her  perplexity. 
^  "Aye,  deary,  most  of  us  has  tribbylation  in  some  form  or 
t  other.    I  often  think,  as  I  lie  lookin'  at  mv  patchwork  quilt, 
tr.at  It  be  just  a  pictur'  of  our  life-a  little  bit  o-  brightness 
and  then  a  patch  o'  dark  ;  but  the  dark  is  j'ined  to  the  bright 
and  on»  never  knows  just  what  the  next  patch  will  be     But' 
the  One  who  makes  it  knows ;  He's  a-workin'  in  the  pattern, 
and  the  black,  dark  bits  only  serve  to  show  up  the  bright 
that's  a-comin'."  *• 

^^  "  Aye,"  said  Reuben,  sinking  into  a  chair ;  "  I  mind  plenty 


God's  Patchwork 

o'  black  days  in  my  life;  but  I've  had  a  many  bright  'uns 
too— aye,  and  one  white  'un,  and  that  were  last  Toosday. 
It  bt  a  fin'*  patch  o'  white  in  my  quilt,  Jenny! " 

"  Tribbyiation ! "  said  tlie  old  woman,  musingly.  "  I  mind 
o'  several  verses  on  it :  'In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribby- 
iation: but  be  of  good  cheer;  I  have  overcome  the  world.' 
'  We  must  through  much  tribbyiation  enter  into  the  kingdom 
of  God.'  '  We  glory  in  tribbylations  also ;  knowing  that  trib- 
byiation worketh  patience.'  '  Who  shall  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  Christ?  shall  tribbyiation?'  Ah,  tribbyiation  is 
tryin'  to  the  flesh,  but  'tis  for  the  improvin'  of  the  soul." 

"And  does  everybody  have  it  except  children?"  asked 
Betty,  with  a  solemn  face. 

"  I  think  as  how  most  folks  have  it  in  one  form  or  t'other ; 
the  saints  get  it  surely,  for  '  whom  the  Lord  loveth  He  chas- 
teneth,  and  scourgeth  every  son  whom  He  receiveth.' " 

"  What  does  '  chasteneth '  mean  ?  " 

"  Punish,  I  take  it,  deary ;  your  father  and  mother  punishes 
you  at  times,  don't  they?  " 

"  No,  nevr ;  only  nurse." 

"Ah,  welJ  and  doesn't  she  desire  your  good?  She  don't 
do  it  just  to  spite  you." 

"  I  s'pose  it's  for  my  good,"  said  Betty,  doubtfully. 

"  Tribbyiation  will  allays  be  a  mystery,"  went  on  the  old 
woman,  speaking  more  to  Reuben  than  the  child.  "  We 
must  bow  our  heads  and  take  it,  whether  we  like  it  or  no ; 
and  it's  :vonderful  strange  how  differently  folks  take  ill 
Seems  to  me,  as  the  Bible  puts  it,  it's  just  a  fire,  and  whiles 
some,  liko  wax,  gets  melted  and  soft  by  it,  t'others  are  like 
the  clay—  hey  gets  hard  and  un!)endable.  I've  known  lots 
o'  both  those  sorts  in  my  time ;  'tis  only  by  keeping  close  t<^ 
the  Hand  that  smites  that  you  feels  the  comfort  and  healing 
that  goes  along  with  it.    If  you  keeps  a  distance  off,  and  lets 

77 


i 


li 


I 


I 


The  Odd  One 

the  devil  come  a-sympathizin'  and  a-groanin'  with  you,  then 
it's  all  bitterness  through  and  through." 

"  Aye,"  said  Reuben ;  "  me  and  the  devil  have  oft  sat  down 
together  over  my  troubles,  and  he  do  know  how  to  make  'em 
werry  black!" 

Betty's  round  eyes  and  puzzled  gaze  at  this  assertion  made 
Reuben  adopt  another  tone. 

"  But  here's  this  little  lass,  Jenny,  a-wantin'  to  have  trib- 
bylation  for  fear  she  shouldn't  be  one  o'  the  Lord's  people 
after  all." 

The  old  woman  looked  across  at  the  child,  and  then  she 
nodded  brightly  at  her. 

"And  you  shall  have  it,  deary;  the  Lord  will  send  it 
surely;  and  when  you're  in  the  midst  o't,  you  mind  these 
words  o'  the  Lord's :  '  Be  thou  faithful  unto  death,  and  I 
will  give  thee  a  crown  of  life.'  It's  in  tribbylation  our  faith 
fails ;  we  can't  see  in  the  dark,  and  we  mistrust  our  Guide." 

Betty's  face  lit  up  at  these  words,  and  she  brushed  away 
some  glittering  drops  from  her  long  lashes. 

"  You  think  I  shall  really  have  it?  "  she  questioned  eagerly. 

"  Surely  you  will  in  some  form  or  t'other,  and  p'r'aps  be- 
fore you're  a  growed-up  woman.  I  sometimes  think  little 
folks'  troubles  are  as  big  as  the  older  folks'." 

Betty  did  not  hear  much  more  of  the  conversation  that 
followed.  Old  Jenny  had  done  more  to  comfort  and  satisfy 
her  than  any  one  else,  and  she  left  the  cottage  with  Reuben, 
saying : 

"  I  like  Jenny  very  much,  and  so  does  Prince ;  we  will 
come  and  see  her  again." 


78 


IX 


BETTYS  DISCOVERY 


Molly  and  Douglas  were  up  in  an  apple-tree  in  the  or- 
chard, late  one  afternoon,  when  Betty  and  Prince  came 
rushing  by. 

"  Hullo!  where  are  you  going?  "  shouted  Douglas. 

Betty  came  to  a  standstill,  and  Prince  likewise,  the  latter 
putting  his  tongue  out  and  looking  up  inquiringly  as  he 
panted  for  breath. 

Betty  cut  a  caper.  "  I'm  going  to  spend  the  day  with 
Miss  Fairfax  to-morrow— me  and  Prince.     Hurray!" 

And  Prince  danced  round  his  little  mistress's  legs  with 
delighted  barks. 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Molly,  looking  down  through  the 
leafy  branches.     "  Didn't  she  ask  us  loo?  " 

"  No,  only  me ;  she  said  she'd  ask  you  another  day." 

"  Where  did  you  see  Miss  Fairfax?  " 

"  In  church ;  she  has  been  making  the  loveliest  music,  and 
Prince  and  I  have  been  singing." 

"Prince  singing!"  said  Douglas,  contemptuously.  "I 
should  like  to  hear  him ! " 

"  He  does,"  Betty  said  eagerly  ;  "  he  really  does.  He  kind 
of  whines  in  his  throat  and  up  his  nose,  and  sometimes  he 
puts  up  his  head,  opens  his  mouth  wide,  and  gives  a  lovely 

79 


The  Odd  One 

howl.     And  he  looks  awfully  pleased  when  he's  done  it ;  he 
thinks  he  sings  very  nicely.     Where's  nurse?  " 

"  She's  washing  Bobby ;  he  tumbled  right  into  the  pigsty, 
and  came  out  a  disgusting  objet'." 
"  Is  she  ratlier  cross?  " 

"  Of  course  she  is ;  she  won't  let  you  go  to  Miss  Fairfax 
if  you  ask  her  now." 
"  Then  I'll  wait  till  tea." 

Betty  threw  herself  down  on  the  grass,  and  Prince  sat  at 
her  feet,  thumping  his  tail  on  the  ground  and  watching  in- 
tently every  change  that  flitted  across  her  face.  Now  and 
then  he  would  make  a  snap  at  some  flies ;  if  Betty  spoke  to 
him  his  whole  body  would  wriggle  with  ecstasy ;  he  seemed 
to  live  on  her  smiles  and  caressing  words. 

"  It  will  be  very  dull  to  spend  the  day  with  a  grown-up 
person,"  said  Douglas,  presently ;  "  I'm  glad  she  didn't  ask 
me ;  I  never  do  care  for  grown-up  persons." 

His  lordly  air  in  making  this  assertion  helped  to  fortify 
Molly,  who  was  bitterly  disappointed  in  not  being  included 
in  the  invitation. 

"I  love  her,"  exclaimed  Betty;  "she's  the  nicest  grown- 
up I've  ever  seen.   She  does  laugh  .so,  and  isn't  a  bit  proper." 
"  Well,  you'll  be  sick  of  it  before  the  day  is  over— you  see 
if  you  aren't !    Now  Molly  and  I  are  going  to  have  a  lovely 
day.     Would  you  like  to  know  what  we're  going  to  do?  " 

Molly  listened  eageriy,  for  Douglas's  plans  were  always 
sudden  and  unexpected. 

"  We're  going  off  directly  after  breakfast  with  our  dinner 
m  our  basket,  and  we're  going  down  to  the  brook.     I'm 
going  to  build  a  bridge  over  it  at  the  widest  part!" 
Both  sisters  looked  aghast  at  this  audacity. 
"  What  will  you  build  it  of?  "  questioned  Betty,  skeptically. 
"  Of  stones  and  clay.    We  shall  make  the  clay  down  there 
30 


Betty'i  Dbcovcry 

and  I  shall  put  a  few  boards  in,  and  make  it  all  smooth  with 
some  putty  that  I  saw  in  the  stable." 

"  You  will  fall  in  the  water  and  get  drowned,"  said  Betty. 
And  then  she  jumped  up  and  ran  off  to  the  house  to  escape 
a  pelting  shower  of  small  green  apples  from  her  irate  brother. 

Nurse  made  a  few  objections  at  first  when  she  heard  of 
Betty's  invitation ;  but  when  she  knew  that  Miss  Fairfax  was 
going  to  call  for  her  little  guest,  and  had  promised  to  bring 
her  safely  back  again,  she  gave  the  required  permission,  and 
Betty's  sleep  that  ni^ht  was  full  of  wonderful  dreams  about 
her  coming  visit. 

She  woke  very  early  the  next  morning,  and  was  full  of 
confidences  to  Prince  of  all  that  they  were  going  to  do  and 
say.  She  gave  nurse  no  rest  after  breakfast  until  she  had 
dressed  her  in  her  best  white  frock  and  tan  shoes  and  stock- 
ings ;  then,  with  her  large  white  Leghorn  hat  and  little  white 
silk  gloves,  she  sat  up  on  a  chair  in  the  best  front  parlor, 
feeling  very  important,  and  making  a  dainty  little  picture  as 
she  sat  there.  Prince  had  a  piece  of  pink  ribbon  tied  round 
his  netk;  Mrs.  Giles  had  produced  it  from  her  work-basket, 
and  had  gained  a  fervent  kiss  and  hug  from  the  little  maiden 
thereby. 

At  last  Nesta  arrived  in  a  low  pony  carriage,  to  Betty's 
intense  delight.  She  wished  that  Molly  and  Douglas  had 
waited  to  see  her  step  in  and  drive  off ;  but  they  had  run  off 
half  an  hour  before,  nurse  having  packed  them  a  lunch-basket 
as  desired. 

Nesta  smiled  at  the  excited  child,  as  she  and  Prince  tumbled 
themselves  into  the  carriage  with  a  good  deal  of  fuss ;  but 
when  they  were  once  off,  driving  through  the  shady  lanes, 
Betty  folded  her  little  hands  demurely  round  Prince  in  her 
lap,  and  upon  her  face  came  that  dreamy  look  her  friend  so 
loved  to  see.     She  did  not  ask  questions,  and  the  drive  was 

8J 


b. 


t; 


ThcOdaOnc 

•  quiet  one,  until  they  at  length  drove  through  some  iron 
gates  round  a  thick  shrubbery,  and  up  to  a  big  white  house 
with  green  Venetian  shutters  and  a  briUiant  show  of  roses  in 
front.  Betty  was  lifted  out  and  taken  up  some  low  stone 
steps  mto  a  broad,  old-fashioned  hall.  It  ^emed  very  cool 
and  quiet  inside;  thick,  soft  rugs  lay  about  the  tiled  floor, 
large  pots  of  flowering  shrubs  stood  here  and  there,  and  at 
the  farther  end  was  an  open  door  with  striped  awning  out- 
side,  and  a  ghmpse  of  a  smooth,  grassy  lawn  and  bright 
flower-beds.  * 

Nesta  opened  a  door  and  led  Betty  into  a  darkened  room, 
full  of  sweet  scents  of  heliotrope  and  roses. 

•'Now  I  am  going  to  bring  you  something,  so  sit  down 
and  wait  for  me." 

Betty's  quick  eyes  were  taking  in  everything;  and  as  for 
Pnnce,  his  nose  was  as  busy  as  his  eyes,  and  a  low  growl 
and  a  stiffening  of  his  ears  soon  told  his  little  mistress  that 
he  had  discovered  something  objectionable.  When  Betty 
crossed  the  room  on  tiptoe  she  found  him  in  front  of  a  large 
mu-.or,  and  the  snarl  on  his  lips  was  not  pleasant  to  see  as 
he  faced  his  mock  antagonist. 

"  O  Prince  for  shame!  I  must  hold  you.  What  would  I 
do  If  you  broke  that  glass?  Now  come  and  look  at  these 
beauuful  pictures.  Look  at  that  lady  up  there ;  she  has  got 
a  little  dog  in  her  arms  very  like  you." 

It  was  a  pleasant  morning-room,  with  plenty  of  pretty  or- 
naments scattered  about,  and  after  the  farm  kitchen  it  had  a 
great  fascination  for  Betty. 

Nes;     preset,  iy  returned  with  some  sponge-cakes  and  a 

«la^  of  raspberry  vin.gar.  wh.<  h  Betty  found  most  refreshing. 

Do  you  live  here  all  alone?  "  she  asked. 

•■No."  said  Miss  Fairfax,  smiling;  "I  have  my  mother 

^nd  s,..ter  here.     My  mother  is  not  very  well  to-day,  but  I 


Betty's  Diacovery 

will  take  you  to  see  my  sister  now.     Come  along  this  way. 
Will  Prince  be  good?" 

"  Yes ;  he  won't  bark  at  all  unless  he  meets  another  dog." 

Betty  trotted  along,  following  her  guide  across  the  hall  to 
another  room,  where,  on  a  couch  near  the  window,  lay  a 
lady. 

"  I've  brought  a  little  visitor  to  see  you,  Grace,"  Nesta 
said  in  cheery  tones.  "  This  is  the  little  girl  I  was  telling 
you  about  the  other  day." 

"  I  can't  bear  children,"  was  the  fretful  reply ;  "  why  do 
you  bring  her  here?  " 

But  nevertheless  she  put  the  book  down  that  she  was 
reading,  and  scanned  the  child  from  head  to  foot.  Betty's 
grave  face  and  earnest  scrutiny  in  return  seemed  to  vex  her 
more. 

"  How  children  stare!  Do  you  think  me  a  scarecrow, 
child?  Can't  you  keep  your  eyes  to  yourself?  What  is 
your  name?  " 

"Betty."  And  the  little  girl  drew  to  her  friend's  side 
rather  shyly. 

"  Go  and  shiKv  hsnds,"  whispered  Nesta. 

Bt'tty  went  up  u  the  couch  and  held  out  her  little  hand. 
The  invalid  took  it,  and  the  fair,  flushed  little  face  seemed 
to  attract  her. 

"  Thih  is  a  perfect  baby,  Nesta ;  I  thought  you  meant  a 
much  older  child.  Well,  little  giri,  haven't  you  a  tongue  in 
your  head?  Have  you  nothing  to  say?  It's  the  way  of  this 
house.  Here  I  lie  from  morning  to  night  without  a  soul  to 
speak  to,  and  if  I  do  have  a  visitor  it  is  half  a  dozen  words 
and  then  off  they  go!  I  should  like  them  to  lie  here  and 
suffer  as  I  do— perhaps  they  might  have  a  little  more  feeling 
for  an  invalid  if  they  did." 

"Are  you  going  to  die?  "  asked  Betty,  timidly. 

83 


ThcOcMOne 

"  Take  her  away! "  gasped  Mi>s  Grace.  "  Don't  bring  a 
child  to  mock  me.  And  I  suppose  you  wiil  be  devoting 
yourself  to  her  t}.e  whole  day,  and  I  ^Jiall  have  no  one  to 
read  the  paper  to  me." 

"No,"  said  Nesta,  brightly;  "I  am  r'.ing  to  let  her  play 
in  the  garden,  and  then  I  shall  come  to  you  as  usual.  Come 
along,  Betty;  now  you  and  Prince  tan  have  a  scamper." 

Out  into  the  garden  they  went.  Hut  Hetty  rubbed  her 
eyes  in  bewilderment  when  she  got  thert-.  Surely  she  had 
seen  this  garden  before.     Was  it  in  her  dreams  last  night? 

She  tripped  across  the  velvet  lawn,  answering  Nesta's 
questions  and  remarks  rather  absently,  and  then  suddenly  she 
turned  round  with  a  beaming  face.  "  I've  been  here  before," 
she  said ;  "  I  had  some  lilies  from  over  there,  and  I  cam'e 
through  that  little  door  in  the  wall  from  the  wood.    Do  you 

know  i.y  lady?    She  looks  like  a  queen.    Does  she  Uve  with 
you?" 

Nesta  looked  perfectly  bewildered. 

"  You  must  be  dreaming,  Betty.     How  could  you  have 
come  here?     When  did  you  come?  " 

Betty  told  her  of  her  adventure  in  the  wood,  and  Nesta 
listened  in  wonder. 

"  It  must  have  been  my  mother,  and  yet  I  can  hardly  un- 
derstand it.  It  is  unlike  her  to  take  any  notice  of  children." 
Then  she  added,  "  Do  you  think  you  can  mal.e  yourself 
happy  in  the  garden,  Betty,  or  would  you  like  to  go  down 
the  green  walk  outside  the  little  gate?  " 

"Will  you  open  the  gate  and  let  me  see?"  said  Bettr 
thoughtfully.  " 

Ne.sta  took  her  to  it,  and  then  for  a  moment  they  stood 
silent,  looking  down  the  green  avenue,  with  the  golden  sun- 
shine glinting  through  the  leafy  trees,  and  the  tall  bracken 
swaying  to  and  fro  in  the  summer  breeze 
84 


Betty's  Diacovery 

"  Which  do  you  hke  best,  Betty,  the  garden  or  this?  " 

Betty  turned  and  looked  behind  her  at  the  lovely  flowers 
and  beautifully  kept  grass  and  gravel  walks,  and  then  she 
heaved  a  little  si^h  as  she  looked  out  into  the  wood. 

"  My  beautiful  old  lady  asked  me  that  question  before, 
and  I  thought  then  I  liked  the  garden,  but  now  I  like  this 
green  walk  best,"  she  said. 

"You  prefer  nature  uncultivated,  don't  you?  So  do  I. 
But  I  do  not  often  come  out  here.  This  is  my  mother's 
favorite  spot." 

"  Did  you  say  '  nature '?  "  questioned  Betty,  eagerly.  "  Do 
you  mean  Mother  Nature?  You  said  you  would  show  her 
to  me  one  day." 

"  So  I  did ;  I  have  quite  forgotten.  Well,  there  she  is  out 
there,  Betty.  Nature  is  God's  beautiful  earth :  the  country, 
the  birds,  the  rabbits,  and  the  squirrels— everything  that  He 
makes  and  that  man  leaves  alone." 

"  I  don't  understand."  And  the  child's  white  brow  was 
creased  with  puckers.  "  I  thought  she  was  a  woman ;  Mr. 
Roper  said  she  was ;  he  said  he  had  learned  many  a  lesson 
from  her." 

"And  so  have  I,"  said  Nesta,  softly.  "Listen,  Betty. 
Sometimes  I  have  gone  out  of  doors  tired  and  worried  and  sad  ; 
I  have  wandered  through  the  wood,  and  the  sweet  sounds 
and  sights  I  have  heard  and  seen  in  it  have  brought  me  home 
rested  and  refreshed.  They  have  spoken  to  me  of  God's 
love  and  God's  care  and  God's  perfection.  You  are  too 
little  to  understand  me,  I  expect,  but  you  will  when  you  get 
older.  God  makes  everything  beautiful,  and  He  watches 
over  the  tiny  birds  and  insects  whom  no  one  but  Himself 
ever  sees.  The  tiniest  flower  is  noticed  by  Him,  and  all  His 
works  in  nature  lead  us  to  think  of  Him  and  to  remember 
how  He  loves  and  cares  for  us." 


MiaOCOTY   RESOIUTWN  TiST  CHA«T 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


I5J 


2.2 


112 

13.6 


■  4.0 


Hill 

no 

ii 


2.0 


1.8 


A     >IPPLIED  IIVMGE 


1653  East   Main   Street 

Wochester,   New  York        U609       USA 

(716)   482  -  0300  -  Pt,on. 

(716)   288  -  5989  -  Fax 


i! 


r  'it 


'I 


The  Odd  One 

Betty's  blue  eyes  were  raised  earnestly  upward. 

"God  does  love  everything,  doesn't  He?  And  He  loves 
Prince  just  as  much  as  He  does  you  and  me." 

Nesta  hesitated.  "I  think,  darling,  God  has  a  different 
love  for  us  to  what  He  has  for  animals.  We  have  cost  the 
dear  Saviour  His  life ;  our  souls  have  been  redeemed.  Ani- 
mals have  no  souls ;  they  do  not  know  the  difference  between 
right  and  wrong—" 

"  But  Prince  does,"  broke  in  Betty,  hastily ;  "  he  knows 
lots  of  the  Bible,  for  I've  told  him  about  it,  and  I  read  the 
'  Peep  of  Day '  to  him  on  Sunday.  He  likes  it ;  he  lies  quite 
Btill  on  my  lap,  and  folds  his  paws,  and  listens  like  anything. 
And  I've  told  him  about  Jesus  dying  for  him,  and  how  he 
mu.st  try  to  be  good.  And  he  does  try ;  he  wanted  to  run 
after  some  little  chickens  yesterday,  and  I  called  him  and 
told  him  it  was  wicked,  and  he  came  away  from  them  di- 
rectly ;  and  I  know  he  wanted  to  go  after  them  dreadfully, 
for  he  was  licking  his  lips  and  glaring  at  them ! " 

This  outburst  from  Betty  was  too  much  for  Nesta.  She 
looked  at  her  with  perplexity,  then  wisely  turned  the  subject, 
and  after  a  few  minutes'  more  chat  left  her  and  went  back 
to  the  house. 

Betty  wandered  out  into  the  wood,  and  then,  seating  her- 
self on  a  soft  bank  surrounded  by  ferns  and  foxgloves,  she 
drew  Prince  to  her. 

"  Come,  you  little  darting,  how  do  you  like  this?  Isn't  it 
lovely  to  be  spending  a  day  in  that  lovely  house,  and  not 
have  to  be  shut  out  with  only  some  lilies  to  take  away?  Do 
you  like  it,  Prince?  And  do  you  think  we  shall  see  that  nice 
queen  and  find  out  if  she  sent  you  in  a  basket  to  me?  Do 
you  understand  about  nature.  Prince?  I  wish  I  did,  but  it's 
the  earth,  I  think.  You  put  your  mouth  down  and  kiss  it. 
Isn't  it  nice  and  soft? '' 
86 


Betty's  Discovery 

And  then,  laying  her  curly  head  on  the  velvet  moss,  Betty 
pressed  her  lips  to  it,  whispering,  "  Mother  Nature,  Mr.  Roper 
sent  you  his  love  and  a  kiss." 

Prince  was  not  content  to  stay  as  quiet  as  this  for  long, 
and  when  a  rabbit  popped  out  from  a  hole  close  by,  he  was 
after  it  like  lightning.  Betty  tore  after  him  delightedly,  and 
a  scamper  removed  from  her  busy  little  mind  for  the  time 
thoughts  that  were  beginning  to  trouble  her. 

When  Nesta  returned  to  the  garden  half  an  hour  after, 
she  found  Betty  deep  in  conversation  with  the  old  gardener, 
and  Prince  was  hunting  for  snails  in  a  thick  laurel  hedge 
close  by. 

"  We  didn't  stay  out  in  the  wood  very  long,"  Betty  ex- 
plained ;  "  we  got  tired  of  running  after  rabbits." 

"  You  must  come  in  to  luncheon  now ;  I  want  you  to  come 
up  to  my  room  to  wash  your  face  and  hands." 

"  Will  the  cross  lady  be  at  lunch?  "  asked  Betty,  as  she 
trotted  up  the  broad  oak  stairs  a  few  minutes  later. 

"Hush,  dear— she  is  ill,  remember.  I  don't  think  she 
will  lunch  with  us." 

Nesta  took  her  litde  visitor  through  a  long  passage  to  a 
pretty  bedroom,  and  Betty  looked  about  at  all  the  pictures 
and  knickknacks,  asking  ceaseless  questions,  and  fingering 
everything  that  she  could  get  hold  of.  Her  ciurls  were 
brushed  out,  her  hands  and  face  washed,  and  then  she  was 
brought  down  to  the  large  drawing-room. 

"This  is  my  little  friend,  mother,"  said  Nesta,  going  in. 

A  tall  figure  turned  round  from  the  window,  and  Betty  saw 
her  mysterious  lady  once  again.  She  looked  colder  and 
sterner  than  ever,  and  put  up  her  gold  pince-nez  to  scan  the 
little  new-comer  down ;  but  Betty's  radiant  face,  dimpling  all 
over  with  pleasure  as  she  held  up  her  face  for  a  kiss,  brought 
a  softer  gleam  to  the  old  gray  eyes,  and,  to  her  daughter's 

87 


f 


I  I 


I 


! 


.i 


'it 


The  Odd  One 

astonishment,  Mrs.  Fairfax  stooped  to  give  the  expected 
kiss. 

"  It  is  the  little  trespasser,"  she  said.  "  I  did  not  know  I 
should  see  you  again  so  soon." 

Then  she  turned  to  Nesta.  "  Grace  informed  me  she  in- 
tended to  lunch  with  us.  She  is  in  the  dining-room  already, 
so  we  will  wait  no  longer." 

They  walked  in  silence  across  to  the  dining-room,  and 
Betty,  awed  by  the  big  table,  the  noiseless  butler,  and  the 
cold,  formal  stateliness  of  the  meal,  sat  up  in  her  big  chair, 
subdued  and  still. 


i 


ifti 


I 


i1 


A  UTTLE  MESSENGER 

Miss  Fairfax  seemed  the  most  talkative,  but  her  conver- 
sation was  a  perpetual  flow  of  complaints;  the  food,  the 
weather,  and  her  ailments  were  her  chief  topics,  and  Betty's 
round  eyes  of  amazement,  as  she  sat  opposite,  served  to  irri- 
tate her  more.     At  length  she  gave  a  little  start  and  scream. 

"  I  am  sure  there  is  a  dog  in  the  room! "  she  exclaimed. 
•'  Hov  often  have  I  told  you,  Jennings,"— this  to  the  butler, 
—  '  to  keep  the  dogs  out  of  our  rooms! " 

•'  It's  my  dog,"  said  Betty,  at  once ;  "  it's  only  Prince.  He 
always  sits  under  my  chair;  he's  such  a  dear,  he  waits  as 
quiet  as  a  mouse." 

"  Take  him  out  of  the  room  at  once,  Jennings ;  I  can't 
eat  another  mouthful  while  he  is  here.  You  ought  never  to 
have  allowed  him  to  come  in ! " 

"  O  Grace,  he  won't  hurt  you! "  said  Nesta,  remonstrating. 

Miss  Fairfax  put  her  knife  and  fork  together  and  leaned 
back  in  her  chair. 

"Very  well;  as  my  nerves  are  never  considered  in  the 
least,  it  is  useless  for  me  to  speak ;  I  had  better  go  back  to 
my  room,  I  am  continually  being  urged  to  join  you  at 
meal-times,  yet  when  I  do  I  am  expected  to  go  through  the 
misery  of  having  a  wretched  dog  crawling  round  my  feet 

89 


/ 


^i! 


Ill 


The  Odd  One 

and  setting  every  nerve  in  my  head  quivering  and  throb- 
bing." 

"Take  the  dog  outside,"  said  Mrs.  Fairfax,  quietly;  then, 
turning  to  Betty,  who  looked  very  perturbed  and  flushed,  she 
said,  "Jennings  will  take  care  of  him,  and  he  shall  have  some 
dinner  in  the  kitchen." 

"He  won't  be  beaten,  will  he?  He  didn't  know  it  was 
wrong  to  follow  me."  And  Betty's  eyes  began  to  fill  with 
tears  as  she  saw  Prince  seized  by  the  scruff  of  hi;?  neck  and 
carried  off,  in  spite  of  indignant  growls  and  snaps. 

"  No,  he  won't  be  beaten,"  she  was  assured ;  but  after  this 
she  had  no  appetite  for  her  dinner,  and  when  the  ladies  rose 
from  the  table  she  ran  up  to  Mrs.  Fairfax. 

"  May  I  have  Prince  again  now?  He's  so  very  good.  I 
want  him  dreadfully." 

"  Yes,  he  shall  be  brought  to  you.  What  are  you  going  to 
do  with  the  child,  Nesta?" 

"  I  will  take  her  out  into  the  garden,  mother.  But  I  hear 
old  Mrs.  Parr  has  come  up  for  some  linseed  meal  I  promised 
her.  Her  husband  is  very  ill  again  with  bronchitis.  I  shall 
not  be  gone  long." 

"  Then  Betty  shall  come  upstairs  with  me." 
Again  Nesta  wondered,  Sut  wisely  said  nothing. 
Prince  came  scampering  across  the  hall,  and  Betty,  now 
completely  happy,  took  hold  of  Mrs.  Fairfax's  hand  and  went 
upstairs  into  a  lovely  little  boudoir,  wliere  she  sat  down  in  a 
low,  cushioned  seat  by  the  window  and  chattered  away  to 
her  heart's  content. 

"  Did  yon  send  Prince  to  me?  You  did,  didn't  you?  I 
knew  it  was  you!  He  is  such  a  dariing,  and  it  makes  me 
into  a  couple,  which  I've  never  been  before." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  smiled  ;  she  seemed  to  lose  some  of  her  stiff- 
ness when  with  Betty  alone. 
90 


"I 


A  Little  ffUssenget 


"  And  is  he  as  much  a  companion  as  another  brother  or 
sister  might  be?  " 

"  I  think  he's  much  nicer.  I  wouldn't  have  any  one  in- 
stead of  him  for  all  the  world." 

"  What  have  you  been  doing  with  yourself  since  I  saw 
you?" 

"  Lots  and  lots  of  things.  I  go  to  church  to  hear  Miss 
Fairfax  play  the  organ,  and  I  take  flowers  to  dead  Violet ; 
and  I  have  got  into  lots  of  scrapes,  but  I  don't  ihink  I'm 
quite  as  naughty  here  as  I  used  to  be  in  the  City.  At  least 
we  can't  quite  make  it  out.  Douglas  was  saying,  the  other 
day,  nurse  lets  him  climb  any  trees  here ;  but  if  he  tried  to 
climb  a  lamp-post,  or  even  one  of  the  trees  in  the  parks,  in 
the  City,  he  was  always  being  whipped  or  put  into  Cells  for 
it.  And  in  the  country  we  can  go  out  without  gloves,  and 
run  races  along  the  roads,  and  swing  on  gates,  and  we  never 
get  punished  at  all.  We  don't  want  to  go  back  to  the  City ; 
it's  so  dreadfully  hard  to  be  good  there." 

"  But  don't  you  want  to  see  your  father  and  mother 
again?  " 

"  Yes,  I  s'pose  so ;  but  we  don't  see  them  very  much  at 
home.  I'd  like  to  stay  in  the  country  for  ever  and  ever,  and 
so  would  Prince."  After  a  pause  she  went  on :  "  You  see, 
there's  a  good  deal  more  going  on  in  the  country  than  in  the 
City.  We  know  a  lot  more  people,  and  there's  always  s*  le- 
thing  fresh  happening.  TTow  in  the  City  every  da;'  is  the 
same,  and  we  liave  only  the  nursery  to  play  in ;  we  get  so 
tired  of  it.  At  the  farm  where  we  live  we're  always  having 
nice  surprises :  lots  of  little  calves  are  born  quite  suddenly, 
or  little  horses,  and  we  don't  know  anything  about  it  till  've 
go  and  see  them  in  the  morning.  Yesterday  there  were  six 
little  black  pigs— such  little  beauties!  And  then  've  have  so 
many  more  people  to  talk  to.     There's  Faimer  and  Mrs. 

91 


41 


hi 


'i\ 


ifi 


I!  ^ 


The  Odd  One 

Giles,  and  Sam,  and  all  the  carters,  and  the  old  man  who 
digs  the  graves,  and  old  Jenny,  and  you,  and  Miss  Fairfax 
and  Mr.  Russell -but  I've  only  seen  him  once." 
Betty  paused  for  breath. 

"^  And  what  do  you  find  to  talk  about  to  so  many  people?  " 
"  I've  been  talking  rather  grave  talks  with  some  of  them  " 
Betty  said  reflectively,  "about  tribulation." 
Mrs.  Fairfax  raised  her  eyebrows. 

•'That  is  very  grave  talk  indeed  for  such  a  mite  as  you. 
What  do  you  know  about  it?  " 

"  I  know  that  everybody  has  got  it  except  me,  and  I  want 
to  have  ,t ;  and  old  Jenny  said  I'd  be  sure  to  come  to  it  soon 
She's  had  It,  and  Reuben  has,  and  Mr.  Russell,  and  nurse 
and  Miss  Fairfax  has.     Has  the  cross  lady  downstairs  had 
It,  and  have  you?  " 

Mrs.  Fairfax's  lips  quivered  a  little  as  she  turned  away  her 
head.  The  soft,  childish  fingers  were  probing  the  wound, 
and  she  shrank  from  their  touch. 

Betty  went  on  dreamily:  "I  often  wonder  what  it's  like 
and  whethei  you  feel  like  Christian  did  in  the  dark  valley- 
but  he  got  through  it  all  right  at  last!    I  should  like  to  come 
right  through  it  into  the  mid-le  of  the  text,  and  Jenny  says 
I  shall  some  day." 
There  was  glad  triumph  in  her  tone. 
"What  text?"  asked  Mrs.  Fairfax,  looking  out  of  the 
window  and  away  to  the  green  woods  in  the  distance. 
Betty  repeated  once  more  the  familiar  words : 
"  '  These  are  they  which  came  out  of  great  tribulation,  and 
have  washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb.'     How  glad  they  must  be  to  have  had  it' 
Don't  you  think  so?" 

And  then  the  stately  Mrs.  Fairfax  sat  down  and  took  Betty 
upon  her  knee ;  drawing  her  close  to  her  till  she  had  the  little 


A  Lhtle  Messenger 

dark  curly  head  resting  against  her  shoulder,  she  bent  her 
head  to  hers  and  said  almost  passionately : 

"  God  grant  you  will  never  know  such  trouble  as  mine, 
little  one— trouble  that  turns  your  heart  to  stone  and  blots 
all  heaven  from  your  sight!" 

Betty  put  her  little  arms  round  her  neck. 

"  Old  Jenny  said  I  should  have  it,"  she  repeated ;  "  and 
she  told  me  when  1  was  in  the  middle  of  it  to  remember, 
'  Be  thou  faithful  unto  death '—  1  forget  the  other  part." 

There  was  silence  for  some  moments,  then  Mrs.  Fairfax 
kissed  the  upturned  face. 

"  Now  run  downstairs,  little  woman,  and  find  Nesta.  I 
will  say  good-by  now,  for  I  shall  not  see  you  again." 

Betty  obeyed  inr*  intly,  and  when  she  had  gone,  for  the  first 
time  for  many  a  long  month,  the  sorrowful  woman  knelt  in 
prayer.  "  God  help  me!  "  she  cried.  "  I  have  been  an  un- 
faithful servant,  and  have  refused  to  turn  to  Thee  for  com- 
fort." 

The  rest  of  the  afternoon  was  as  delightful  as  the  morning 

to  Betty.     She  visited  the  stables  and  poultry-yard;  she 

picked  strawberries  and  ate  them  while  she  picked;  she 

-    h^r  i  a  large  nosegay  of  flowers  to  take  home  to  nurse ; 

at  four  o'clock  she  came  in  to  a  delicious  little 

Me   cool,  shady  parlor.      Miss   Fairfax  was  lying 

sofa  there,  but  she  seemed  to  like  to  hear  the  child 

talk,  and  even  condescended  to  allow  Prince  to  come  inside 

to  receive  a  lump  of  sugar  on  his  nose,  while  he  sat  up  and 

begged. 

"  I've  had  a  lovely  day,"  said  Betty,  as  Nesta  was  putting 
on  her  hat  upstairs  in  the  bedroom. 

"  And  so  have  I,"  responded  Nesta,  laughing.  "  You  have 
been  very  good  company,  Betty ;  I  shall  be  quite  dull  when 
you  are  gone." 

93 


IS 


1% 


m-^i 


i 


p.j«*i»,:.^-i-wi-v«iig 


The  Odd  One 

"  Have  you  no  one  to  talk  to  when  I'm  not  here?     Are 
yrm  an  odd  one?  " 
"  Perhaps  I  may  be." 

"  Why  don't  you  make  yourself  into  a  couple  with  some 
one,  like  Prince  an  1  me?  " 

But  this  made  Nesta's  soft  eyes  fill  with  tears,  and  Betty 
felt  very  uncomfortable  until  she  was  kissed  and  told  she 
was  the  funniest  little  chatterbox  living.  The  pony  carriage 
came  round,  and  a  little  later  she  was  being  driven  home, 
rather  tired,  and  very  happy  at  her  day's  outing. 

Nesta  left  her  at  the  gate  nnd  drove  silently  home.  Betty 
had  brought  a  good  deal  of  brightness  into  her  life,  and 
though  she  was  always  outwardly  so  cheery  in  her  manner, 
her  heart  was  often  heav^  and  sore.  It  was  not  a  cheerful 
house,  and  as,  an  hour  later,  she  tried  to  ei. liven  the  solemn 
dinner-table,  expecting,  as  usual,  to  meet  with  no  response 
but  grumbles  from  Grace  and  chilling  indifference  on  t.ie 
part  of  her  mother,  she  was  surprised  by  Mrs.  Fairfax's  efforts 
to  take  part  in  the  conversation. 

"  That  child  is  an  original  character,"  she  observed.  "  Do 
you  know  who  they  are,  Nesta  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  Mr.  Crumj)  was  telling  me  the  other  day.  Their 
father  is  the  member  for  Stonycroft,  and  their  mother  that 
Mrs.  Stuart  who  is  so  busy  in  philanthropical  objects  in 
town.  She  was  one  of  the  Miss  Champneys— the  clever 
Miss  Champneys,  as  we  used  to  call  them.  I  think  the 
children  must  inherit  the  talents  of  their  parents,  for,  though 
they  are  regular  little  pickles  for  mischief,  they  are  all  origi- 
nal in  their  way.  Betty  thinks  the  most,  I  should  say;  the 
others  seem  to  live  in  dreamland  half  their  time.  I  came 
across  the  other  girl  and  boy  in  an  old  willow-tree  the  other 
day.  I  spoke  to  them,  but  was  hushed  up  at  once  by  the 
boy,  who  put  his  fair  curly  head  out  of  the  branches  and  said. 
94 


A  Littk  Menengfcr 

'  You're  not  to  speak  to  us  just  now ;  ve're  hiding  from  the 
queen  of  the  brook!  She  comes  dashing  down  in  foam,  she's 
so  angry  with  us ;  and  if  slie  splashes  us,  we  shall  be  turned 
into  black  dogs  and  have  to  go  on  all  fours  till  dinner-time! ' 
I  laughed  and  left  them.  1  vlon't  altogether  envy  their 
nurse." 

"  Betty  is  not  enough  of  a  child,"  Mrs.  Fairfax  said ;  "  some 
of  her  sayings  are  quite  uncanny." 

"  Do  you  think  so?  She  has  plenty  of  life  and  spirits. 
But  she  is  a  child  of  intense  feeling.  I  am  afraid  she  will 
suffer  for  it  as  she  grows  older.  Yesterday  I  came  upon  her 
outside  the  churchyard  crying  as  if  her  heart  would  break 
over  a  dead  frog.  I  tried  to  comfort  her.  '  Oh,'  she  sobbed, 
'  I'm  so  afraid  Prince  has  killed  it.  I  didn't  see  him,  but  he 
may  have ;  and  he  doesn't  look  a  bit  sorry.  What  shall  I 
do  if  he  grows  up  a  murderer? '  " 

Mrs.  Fairfax  would  have  thought  Betty  a  stranger  child 
still  if  she  could  have  seen  her  that  evening  tossing  in  her 
little  bed. 

Molly  was  fast  a.leep.  Nurse  had  left  the  room,  and  all 
was  quiet ;  but  Betty  was  going  over  in  her  busy  little  mind 
the  events  of  *he  past  day.  At  last  she  stretched  out  her 
hand  to  Prin       n  his  basket. 

"She  said  you  had  no  soul,  Prince;  I  wonder  if  you 
haven't?  I  wish  you'd  say  prayers  to  God ;  I'm  sure  God 
will  give  you  a  soul  if  you  ought  to  have  one!  Prince,  wake 
up!" 

Prince  rolled  over,  shook  himself,  and  jumped  up  on  the 
bed,  wondering  what  was  the  reason  of  this  summons. 

Betty  sat  up  with  flushed  cheeks  and  brighr  eyes.  "  Come 
here,  Prince.  Now  beg!  That's  right.  Now  say  a  prayer 
—just  a  very  little  one.  I  pray  for  you,  darling,  every  night, 
but  you're  big  enough  to  pray  yourself.   God  will  know  your 

95 


f 


'.Ml 
','1. 


ThcOddOne 

language  if  you  speak  to  Htm,  and  yor  ''an  just  speak  secret 
to  Him— 1  do  often.  Now,  Prince— no,  don't  lick  my  hand, 
and  keep  your  tail  still.  I  wish  you'd  shut  your  eyes.  I'll 
put  my  hand  over  them— there!  Now,  Prince,  ask  God  to 
give  you  a  soul,  and  forgive  your  sins,  and  take  you  to  heaven 
when  you  die." 

Betty  bent  her  head  in  silence,  while  for  two  p»inutes  Prince 
kept  perfectly  still ;  then  she  took  her  little  hands  from  his 
eyes,  and  he  gave  a  quick,  short  bark  of  delight,  per'iaps  in 
anticipation  of  a  lump  of  sugar  ''or  this  new  trick  taught  him. 
If  so,  he  was  disappointed ;  he  was  only  kissed  and  put  back 
into  his  basket.  And  Betty  laid  her  little  head  on  the  pillow, 
but  only  half  satisfied.  "  O  God,"  she  murmured  sleepily, 
"if  P;  ~e  hasn't  prayed  properly,  please  forgive  him,  and 
give  him  a  soul,  and  make  him  a  good  dog,  for  Jesus  Christ's 
sake.     Amen." 


96 


XI 


A  DARING  FEAT 


It  was  a  hot  afternoon  in  July.  The  children  had  tired 
themselves  out  with  play,  and  were  resting  under  some  shady 
trees  near  the  farm.  By  and  by  Betty  wandered  off  into  a 
neighboring  corn-field,  and,  resting  her  head  against  an  old 
log  of  wood  in  the  comer  of  it,  went  fast  asleep,  while  Prince 
sat  at  her  feet  keeping  a  faithful  watch  over  his  little  mistress. 
Mr.  Russell,  sauntering  through  a  foot-path  in  the  field,  came 
up  and  looked  at  them,  and  his  artist's  eye  was  at  once 
charmed  with  the  picture  they  made.  He  stood  and,  taking 
out  his  sketch-book,  drew  a  rapid  outi.  -^  of  Betty's  "  tit 
figure  as  she  lay  there,  one  hand  grasping  some  red  poj  is, 
and  the  other  arm  thrown  behind  her  curly  h^acl.  Pnnce 
was  also  sketched,  and  then  Betty  awoke.  Sh^  coked  con- 
fused at  first,  then  jumped  to  her  ff.:i 

"Don't  be  frightened,"  said  Mr.  ^^  isell,  gravtly.  "Do 
you  live  near  here?  " 

Betty  pointed  out  the  farm. 

"  And  do  you  think  you  would  be  allowed  to  come  to  my 
house  one  day  for  me  to  make  a  picture  of  you  ?  " 

Betty  colored  with  pleasure. 

"  I'll  ask  nurse.     All  by  myself?  " 

97 


'i 


Ml 


j 

IPS 
1 


The  Odd  One 

"  All  by  yourself— at  least  with  your  dog.  Where  is  your 
nurse?     Would  she  come  out  here  to  speak  to  me?  " 

Nurse  was  only  in  the  next  field,  so  was  easily  fetched ; 
and  though  demurring  somewhat  at  first,  was  soon  reassured 
by  Mr.  Russell,  who  promised  to  keep  Betty  only  about  an  hour. 

"  I  will  see  she  returns  to  you  safely,  my  good  woman ; 
and  when  you  find  that  sh(»  has  come  to  no  harm,  perhaps 
you  will  allow  her  to  come  again.  I  want  to  make  a  little 
sketch  of  her  for  a  subject  I  have  in  view." 

And  it  was  settled  that  Betty  should  go  to  him  the  next 
day  at  two  o'clock. 

"  I  don't  quite  like  it,"  said  nurse,  afterward,  when  talking 
it  over  with  Mrs.  Giles ;  "  but  he  seemed  rather  a  high-handed 
gentleman,  as  if  he  wouldn't  take  no.  I  don't  know  Wiiether 
the  mistress  would  like  it.  Most  children  would  be  shy  of 
it,  but  none  of  these  seem  to  know  what  shyness  is ;  and  Miss 
Betty  seems  to  make  friends  wherever  she  goes;  I  can't 
understand  it.  Miss  Molly,  to  my  eyes,  is  much  the  most 
taking." 

"  Mr.  Russell  is  our  landlord,"  responded  Mrs.  Giles ;  "  he's 
a  proper  sort  o'  gentleman,  and  he  won't  hurt  the  child  by 
a-paintin'  of  her.  He  lives  all  alone  since  his  little  girl  died, 
and  maybe  she'll  cheer  him  up;  he's  very  down-hearted, 
folks  say." 

"Why  should  you  go,  and  not  us?"  said  Molly,  when 
Betty  ran  off  to  tell  them  all  about  it.  "  It's  too  bad ;  you're 
getting  all  the  nice  things,  and  I'm  the  eldest." 

"  I  don't  expect  you'll  like  it,"  said  Douglas,  rolling  over 
on  the  grass  and  tickling  Bobby's  bare  legs  with  a  bunch  of 
grass ;  "  I  know  the  man,  and  he  has  an  awful  temper!  Sam 
told  me  he  thrashed  a  boy  who  was  taking  a  bird's  nest  out 
of  his  orchard ;  and  he  has  a  large  glass  room  with  skeletons 
and  bits  of  people's  bodies  Iving  all  about.  I  think  he  likes 
98 


A  Daring  Feat 

to  get  children  in  there,  and  then  he  keeps  them  prisoners 
and  never  lets  them  out  again." 

Betty  stood  still,  eying  her  brother  doubtfully. 

"I  don't  believe  it!" 

"  You  wait  till  he  gets  you  there.  He  has  dead  men's  legs 
and  hands.  Sam  says  he's  seen  them  through  the  window. 
He's  a  Bluebeard.  He  always  keeps  the  room  locked,  and 
doesn't  let  any  one  in.  And  if  he  takes  you  in  there  to-mor- 
row afternoon,  you'll  never  come  out  again!" 

"  And  then  I  shall  have  Prince  and  take  him  back  to  the 
City  for  my  dog,"  put  in  Molly. 

"  Prince  is  coming  with  me,"  Betty  retorted ;  "  so  if  I 
never  come  back  again.  Prince  won't!  And  I  don't  care  if 
we  don't  come  back.  I'd  rather  live  with  Mr.  Russell  than 
with  you  when  you  are  cross." 

"  He'll  fatten  you  up  with  porridge  for  a  week,  and  then 
he'll  cut  you  up  into  little  bits,  and  Prince  too." 

Betty  laughed  and  danced  away.  Prince  at  her  heels. 

"  You're  jealous  because  I'm  going  to  be  put  into  a  pic- 
ture," she  called  out.  "  I'll  tell  you  all  about  the  dead  men's 
legs  when  I  come  back." 

The  next  afternoon  she  was  taken  up  to  the  Hall  by  nurse, 
who  arrayed  herself  in  her  best  clothes,  and  was  delighted 
when  she  was  taken  to  the  housekeeper's  room  to  be  enter- 
tained. She  would  have  liked  to  wait  there  the  full  hour, 
but  Mr.  Russell  had  promised  to  bring  back  Betty  himself, 
so  she  had  not  that  excuse. 

And  Douglas  and  Molly  were  consoling  themselves  at 
home  by  building  a  hay  castle  in  the  meadow,  and  capturing 
Bobby  and  Billy  at  intervals  under  the  plea  of  painting  their 
pictures,  and  then  going  through  a  process  which  was  more 
entertaining  to  them  than  to  their  little  victims— that  of  cut- 
ting off  their  arms  and  legs  to  hang  on  their  walls. 

99 


r 


i: 


.J,.; 


41 


m 


The  Odd  One 

It  was  nearly  five  o'clock  when  Betty  returned,  and  her 
little  tongue  was  busy  all  tea-time. 

"  Such  a  funny  room!  And  Mr.  Russell  had  changed  his 
mind,  and  he  isn't  going  to  paint  my  picture,  but  he's  going 
to  make  a  dead  figiu-e  of  me  and  Prince  instead ;  he's  got 
some  white  wet  stuff  like  putty,  and  he  rolls  up  his  shirt- 
sleeves like  a  workman.  I  had  to  lie  down  and  pretend  to 
be  asleep,  but  I  could  keep  my  eyes  open;  and  I  did  see 
some  legs,  but  they're  images ;  and  there  was  an  image  with- 
out a  head — a  dead  figure,  you  know.  And  there  were 
beautiful  curtains  and  flowers  and  rugs,  and  pictures  half 
finished.  It  was  rather  an  untidy  room.  I  told  Mr.  Russell 
what  you  said,  Douglas,  and  he  laughed.  He  gave  me  some 
peaches,  and  then  we  had  a  nice  grave  talk  coming  home." 

This  and  more  Betty  revealed,  and  her  visits  to  the  Hall 
became  very  frequent  as  time  wore  on.  If  she  enjoyed  them, 
Mr.  Russell  did  too,  and  yet  she  brought  to  him  mingled 
feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain.  He  talked  lightly  to  her  and 
put  aside  his  stern  moods  while  with  her ;  but  every  now  and 
then  some  childish  gesture  or  tone  would  stab  him  with  the 
memory  of  his  little  daughter,  and  his  brows  would  contract 
and  his  voice  falter  at  the  remembrance. 

One  day  he  was  called  away  from  the  studio,  and  for  some 
time  Betty  was  left  alone. 

When  he  returned  he  found  her  lyir  lat  on  her  chest, 
turning  over  the  leaves  of  a  book. 

"  What  book  have  you  got  hold  of?  "  he  asked.  "  Some- 
thing that  seems  to  interest  you." 

"  It's  Revelation,"  said  Betty,  with  a  beaming  face. 

"  The  Bible?  I  did  not  remember  I  had  one  in  the  room ; 
ah,  yes,  I  remember— it's  here  for  its  antique  cover.  Well, 
what  do  you  make  of  Revelation?  " 

"  Oh,  I  love  it,  don't  you?  I'm  reading  about  the  singing 
100 


iC. 


A  Daring:  Feat 

in  heaven,  and  it  says,  '  Ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand, 
and  thousands  of  thousands.'  What  crowds  there  will  be! 
Mr.  Russell,  supposing  heaven  gets  too  small  for  all  the 
people,  what  will  happen?  " 

"  I  don't  think  there's  a  chance  of  that,"  Mr.  Russell  said, 
smiling ;  "  it  doesn't  \o6k  as  if  many  are  bound  there  in  the 
present  age,  at  all  events." 

"  It  says,"  went  on  Betty,  with  her  finger  on  the  page, '  For 
Thou  wast  slain,  i.  .J  hast  redeemed  us  to  God  by  Thy  blood 
out  of  every  kindred,  and  tongue,  and  people,  and  nation.' 
That  takes  in  everybody,  doesn't  it,  Mr.  Russell?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Russell,  looking  down  at  the  little  figure 
on  the  floor  half  humorously,  half  sadly,  "every  one  that 
wants  to  be  taken  in." 

"  Why  should  any  one  want  to  be  outside  ?  "  questioned 
the  child. 

Mr.  Russell  did  not  answer;  he  went  to  his  outline  and 
uncovered  it.  It  was  rapidly  progressing.  Betty's  little 
figure  was  nearly  finished;  there  was  the  gnarled  log  of 
wood  against  which  she  lay,  and  Prince's  outline  had  already 
been  commenced. 

She  jumped  up  and  came  over  to  look  at  it. 

"  It  would  make  a  beautiful  grave,  wouldn't  it?  "  she  said 
thoughtfully.  "  I  should  like  to  have  it  put  on  the  top  of 
mine  when  I  die." 

"  Don't  talk  about  dying,  child! "  was  the  hasty  reply. 

"  I'm  afraid  I'm  not  ready,"  said  Betty,  with  a  shake  of 
her  curly  head ;  "  but  I  will  be  when  I've  been  through  tribu- 
lation. Mr.  Russell,  do  you  think  a  dog  can  go  through 
tribulation?  " 

"  No,  I  do  not,"  said  Mr.  Russell,  laughing.  Betty's  views 
on  her  favorite  text  were  by  this  time  well  known  to  him, 
and  he  generally  treated  ner  childish  difficulties  with  respect ; 

101 


The  Odd  One 

but  this  unexpected  question  was  too  much  for  him,  and 
Betty's  h'ttle  face  cJouded  over  at  his  laugh.  She  was  very 
silent  after  that,  and  went  home  with  rather  a  wistful  little 
face. 

But  all  serious  thoughts  were  dissolved  at  the  news  that 
awaited  her.  Molly  rushed  out,  her  long  hair  flying  in  the 
wind.  "  I've  got  a  letter  from  Uncle  Harry,  and  he  is  com- 
ing to  see  us  next  week! " 

"  And  he's  going  to  spend  a  week  with  us ;  he's  going  to 
fish,  ard  I  shall  fish  too!"  shouted  Douglas. 

"  And  Uncle  Harry  will  have  cwicket  with  us! "  cried  the 
twins. 

"  Of  course  he  wrote  to  me,  as  I'm  the  eldest,"  said  Molly, 
proudly;  "if  you'll  be  very  good  I'll  read  you  his  Ittter." 
And  producing  a  very  crumpled  envelop  from  her  pocket, 
she  read : 


"  Dear  Madam  Molly  :  I  have  had  orders  from  your  re- 
.spected  parents  to  come  down  for  an  inspectio.j  of  you  all, 
so  expect  me  Tuesday,  the  27th  inst.  Tell  nurse  all  com- 
plaints will  be  attended  to,  and  punishment  duly  administered. 
She  must  get  me  a  room  somewhere  for  a  week,  as  I  have 
heard  there  is  good  fishing  in  your  neighborhood.  My  love 
to  doughty  Douglas  and  the  three  B's. 

■'  Your  affectionate  uncle, 

"  Harrv. 

"  P.S.  Tell  nurse  I  shall  bring  a  rod  with  me." 


"  Isn't  he  a  funny  dear?  "  went  on  Molly.  "  He  pretends 
he's  coming  to  punish  us!  Won't  we  have  fun  when  he 
comes!" 

"  He  doesn't  know  there  are  six  of  us  now,"  observed  Betty, 
with  sparkling  eyes.    "  I  wonder  what  he  will  say  to  Prince  ?  " 
102 


A  Daring:  Feat 

The  children  could  do  little  else  but  talk  about  their  uncle's 
coming  visit  tor  the  next  week;  and  when  at  last  Tuesrlay 
arrived  they  were  in  a  great  stale  of  excitement.  Nurse  cou.J 
hardly  curb  their  turbulent  spirits.  Captain  Stuart  was 
adored  by  his  little  nephews  and  niect  ,  and  his  visits  were 
always  a  golden  time.  At  last,  after  rescuing  Douglas  from 
a  farm  wagon  that  he  was  driving  off  during  the  carter's  ab- 
sence, Molly  and  Betty  from  an  infuriated  sow  that  they 
were  trying  to  wash  under  the  pump,  and  Bobby  and  Billy 
from  a  hay-cutter  they  were  meditating  using,  nurse  locked 
up  all  the  five  in  the  garret,  hoping  they  would  be  safe  there 
until  their  uncle  arrived.  Prince  was  left  outside,  and  all 
Betty's  beseeching  petitions  that  he  might  share  their  punish- 
ment were  unheeded  by  nurse;  so  Prince  crouched  down 
outside  thi^  door,  patiently  keeping  watch,  and  now  and  then 
responding  to  his  little  mistress's  voice  through  the  keyhole 
by  sundry  ^vhines  and  barks. 

"  Nurse  won't  dare  to  put  us  in  Cells  after  to-day,"  said 
Douglas,  wrathfuUy;  "she  is  just  doing  it  to  pretend  to 
Uncle  Harry  that  we're  always  in  disgrace,  and  I  hate  her! " 

"  And  I  was  going  down  to  the  brook  to  get  some  forget- 
me-not^  to  pui  in  Uncle  Harry's  room,"  said  Molly,  plain- 
tively. 

"  It's  wather  nice  being  punished  all  together,"  said  Bobby, 
who  always  dreaded  being  left  alone. 

Betty  said  nothing ;  her  curly  head  was  out  of  one  of  the 
windows,  and  she  was  deep  in  thought.  At  last  she  drew 
it  in. 

"  S'posing  the  house  was  to  take  fire,  and  we  were  all  to 
be  locked  in  ht-re?  "  she  suggested. 

Molly  looked  quite  frightened  at  the  thought,  but  Douglas 
rose  to  the  occasion  and  he  said  triumphantly : 

"Yes,  nurse  would  be  in  a  pretty  state  then!     Farmer 

103 


€    1 


^ 


The  Odd  One 

Giles  would  rush  off  for  a  fire-engine;  we  would  throw  up 
the  windows,  and  then  I'd  get  out  on  the  roof  and  make  a 
speech.  I'd  remind  nurse  of  all  the  nasty  things  she  has 
said  and  done  to  us  since  we  w  ;re  babies-how  she  has  said 
over  and  over  again  there  never  were  such  children  in  the 
world,  and  that  we  nearly  drove  her  mad;  and  then  I'd  say 
she'd  be  sorry  now  when  she  was  going  to  see  us  burned 
before  her  eyes;  and  she  would  be  sobbing  and  crying,  and 
so  would  Mrs.  Giles  and  Sam,  and  all  the  others!" 

"  But  they  might  get  ladders  to  take  us  down,"  suggested 
Molly. 

"  There's  only  one  ladder  long  enough.     Sam  would  put 
that  up,  but  the  flames  underneath  the  floor  would  come  out 
and  bum  the  ladder  in  two;  and  there's  no  fire-escape;  they 
don't  seem  to  have  them  in  the  country.     I  should  go  on 
speaking  as  lo.ig  as  I  could,  and  then  I  should  say  we  didn't 
wish  to  go  down  to  our  graves  angry,  so  we  would  forgive 
her,  only  we  hoped  the  next  children  she  had  she  would  be 
kinder  to.     And  then  I  would  say  good-by,  and  the  roof 
would  be  cracking  underneath  me,  and  nurse  would  scream 
and  cry ;  and  then  I  would  take  a  leap  right  into  the  middle 
of  the  fire,  and  there  would  be  a  kind  of  explosion,  and  the 
house  would  fall  in.     And  the  next  day  there  would  be  five 
heaps  of  bones  and  black  ashes-all  that  was  left  of  us ;  and 
nurse  would  sit  down  with  a  broken  heart  in  the  middle  of 
us." 

Bobby  and  Billy  had  been  listening  to  this  awful  story  with 
their  eyes  nearly  starting  ^ut  of  their  heads,  and  now  both 
burst  into  sobs  of  terror.  "We're  going  to  be  burned i 
Nurse,  nurse,  let  us  out ;  we  will  be  good! " 

They  w    e  hushed  up  in  scorn  by  Douglas,  but  Molly 
soothed  and  comforted  them,  assuring  them  it  was  only  a 
make-up  and  that  the  house  never  would  catch  fire. 
104 


A  Dubig  Feat 

"  And  if  it  did  catch  fire  I  would  get  out  safe,"  said  Betty, 
solemnly ;  "  for  I  should  climb  out  of  the  window  and  walk 
along  the  gutter,  holding  on  by  the  roof ;  and  then  I  should 
climb  down  by  the  pear-tree  over  Uncle  Harry's  bedroom." 

"  You  couldn't  do  it,"  said  Douglas,  scoffingly ;  "  girls 
can't  climb!" 

"  I  could  do  it— I  could  do  it  now!" 

"Then  do  it,  do  it— I  dare  you  to  do  it!" 

Betty's  eyes  sparkled;  and  Molly  at  once  left  the  twins 
and  ran  to  the  window  and  put  her  head  out. 

"  I  think  she  could  do  it  if  we  lifted  her  cut,  but  it  looks 
awful  dangerous ;  I  should  be  afraid." 

"  I'm  not  a  bit  afraid,"  said  Betty,  sturdily. 

"You  wait  till  you're  once  out.  I  dare  you  to  do  it!" 
And  Douglas  danced  up  and  down  in  delight  at  the  coming 
excitement. 

Not  a  doubt  entered  Betty's  head  as  to  the  right  or  wrong 
of  such  an  escapade ;  her  impulsive  little  soul  was  longing  to 
prove  to  her  brother  her  ability  in  climbing,  and,  audaci  us 
as  she  was  in  daring  feats,  this  s.  "med  to  be  a  test  of  her 
powers.  The  garret  window  was  opened ;  it  was  in  the  roof, 
so  Betty  had  no  difficuUy  in  '  nibing  out  and  standing  in 
the  gutter  which  ran  right  round  the  house.  Then  slowly 
and  carefully,  n  sight  of  the  four  admiring  faces  at  the 
window,  she  commenced  her  perilous  walk.  .'5teadying  her- 
self by  leaning  with  one  hand  on  the  sloping  roof  at  her  right, 
Betty  walked  triumphantly  on  till  she  reached  the  corner  of 
the  house ;  here  she  hesitated. 

"Come  back,"  called  out  Molly;  "you  can't  turn  the 
comer!" 

"  I  dare  you  to  go  on! "  naughty  Douglas  cried  excitedly. 

There  was  breathless  silence ;  but  others  besides  the  little 
inmates  of  the  garret  were  watching  this  feat  in  horror.   Two 

105 


u 

fii 


M' 


TheOd4  0ne 

gentlemen  were  walking  leisurely  through  the  meadow  in 
front  of  the  house. 

"  What  on  earth  is  that  on  the  roof,  Stuart?  Not  a  child, 
surely!" 

"A  child  it  is.  Good  heavens!  it's  one  of  my  hopeful 
nieces ;  she'll  be  dashed  to  pieces  to  a  certainty !  Come  on, 
St.  Clair,  only  don't  make  a  row!" 

They  reached  the  house  as  Betty  was  in  the  act  of  turning 
the  comer.  For  a  moment  the  little  figure  swayed  outwardly, 
and  Captain  Stuart  quite  expected  that  moment  to  be  Betty's 
last ;  but  she  recovered  her  balance  most  miraculously,  ac- 
complished the  turn  successfully,  and  went  steadily  on  till 
she  reached  the  pear-tren. 

Both  gentlemen  remained  perfectly  silent, '  owing  that  a 
start  might  produce  a  false  step,  and  they  v.  ^.ched  her  de- 
scent to  the  ground  now  with  less  anxiety.  Half-way  down 
had  Betty  got  when  there  was  a  rushing  sound  of  feet,  and 
nurse,  with  a  scream  of  horror,  appeared  on  the  scene. 

Betty's  nerves  gave  way ;  she  placed  hei  foot  on  a  rotten 
branch,  which  broke  under  her ;  her  hands  relaxed  their  hold. 
Another  ""ream  from  nurse,  echoed  by  Mrs.  Giles  behind 
her,  and  the  child  fell  heavily,  but  safely,  into  her  uncle's 
arms  below. 


IflA 


MtHMMHI 


•  n 


XII 


^! 


UNCLE  HARRY'S  FRIEND 

"  Here's  a  pretty  welcome  for  a  tired  man  who  wants  his 

dinner!" 

Betty  was  standing  before  her  uncle  with  a  white  little  face 
and  determined,  set  mouth,  and  nurse  was  releasing  the  other 
little  prisoners  and  bringing  them  down  to  their  uncle. 

Captain  Stuart's  friend  was  lounging  on  the  low  window- 
seat  of  the  best  parlor,  looking  on  w"th  an  amused  eye. 

"  Nurse  thinks  you  ought  to  have  a  good  whipping,"  con- 
tinued Captain  Stuart,  stroking  his  long,  fair  mustache  very 
gravely,  though  there  was  a  twinkle  in  his  blue  eyes.  "  I 
think  we  must  have  a  court  martial  first.  Were  you  trying 
to  kill  yourself,  Betty?  " 

"  I  was  trying  to  savf  myself  from  a  fire— I  mean  a  fire 
that  might  be." 

The  sentence  was  begun  bravely,  but  the  litde  lips  began 
to  quiver.  Shaken  by  her  fall,  afraid  of  her  uncle's  anger, 
and  uncomfortable  by  the  presence  of  a  stranger,  she  burst 

into  tears. 

And  then  Captain  Stuart  took  her  on  his  knee  and  drew 

out  his  large  hanrikerchief. 

"  There,  little  woman,  rest  your  head  against  my  shoulder 

107 


I 


I 


I 


The  Odd  One 

and  cry  away;  it  will  do  you  good.     I  was  beginning  to 
think  you  a  little  stoic." 

The  door  opened,  and  the  other  children  appeared  with 
very  large  eyes  and  solemn  faces. 

They  kissed  their  uncle  in  a  subdued  fashion,  and  then 
Molly  said,  "  Nurse  told  us  Betty  had  fallen ;  is  she  hurt  ?  " 

"  Is  her  legs  bwoken?  "  demanded  the  twins. 

"  I  knew  she  couldn't  do  it ;  I  told  her  she  couldn't! " 

In  an  instant  Belt  's  face  appeared  from  behind  her  hand- 
kerchief. "  I  did  do  it— I  did!  and  I  could  do  it  again  to- 
morrow,  so  there,  Douglas!" 

Then  Uncle  Harry  laughed  outright,  after  which  he  pulled 
himself  up  and  said  as  sternly  as  he  could : 

"  Now  look  here,  youngsters ;  I'm  not  good  at  scolding, 
as  you  know,  but  you're  all  old  enough  to  know  that  it  is 
not  true  pluck  to  go  crawling  round  roofs  like  cats,  and  run- 
ning the  risks  of  breaking  your  necks  and  damaging  your 
limbs  for  the  rest  of  your  lives.  Now,  then,  who  is  to  blame? 
Speak  up  like  little  soldiers,  and  don't  be  ashamed  of  owning 
up  and  telling  the  truth  about  it." 

There  was  a  pause.  Douglas  got  very  red  in  the  face, 
but  blurted  out,  "  I  dared  her  to  do  it." 

"  And  I  Piid  I  thought  she  could  do  it,"  said  Molly,  with 
tearful  eyes ;  "  but  I  did  ask  her  to  come  back  at  the  comer." 

"  And  I  dared  her  to  go  on,"  added  Douglas. 

"  And  Bobby  and  me  clapped  oui  hands  at  her,"  put  in 
Billy,  eagerly,  feeling  anxious  to  share  in  the  glory  of  the 
escapade. 

"  Do  you  think  it  a  brave  thing  to  urge  another  on  to 
danger,  when  perhaps  you  would  be  afraid  of  taking  their 
place  yourself?  " 

It  was  Douglas  who  was  addressed,  and  he  hung  his  head 
in  shame. 


Uncle  Harry'i  Friend 

"  But  he  was  just  getting  out  of  the  window  to  follow  her 
when  nurse  came  up,"  said  MoMy,  in  defense  of  her  favorite 
brother. 

"  I  didn't  know  boys  were  in  the  habit  of  following  girls," 
remarked  Capuin  Stuart,  dryly.  "  I  think  doughty  Douglas 
must  have  another  name.  Listen,  my  boy,  and  remember 
this  to  the  end  of  your  life.  There  were  two  young  fellows 
came  out  to  join  our  battalion  in  Egypt.  We  were  ordered 
out  one  morning,  and  both  these  ytmngsters  came  with  us. 
They  were  strong,  fresh-faced  young  fellows,  one  especially ; 
he  was  the  heir  to  a  big  property  at  home,  and  had  left  his 
widowed  mother  to  come  and  earn  a  name  for  himself.  I  can 
see  him  now,  with  his  sparkling  tyes  and  merry  laugh,  as  he 
rode  on  just  in  front  of  me  with  his  chum.  I  won't  give  you 
children  details,  but  we  had  a  sharp  bit  of  fighting  that  morn- 
ing, and  bullets  were  flying  pretty  freely.  At  the  finish,  when 
returning,  having  dispersed  our  enemy,  we  came  across  an- 
other party  of  them  intrenched  on  a  height.  Orders  were 
given  to  fire  lying  down,  as  they  were  skilled  marksmen  and 
had  the  advantage  of  the  position.  '  Now,  then,'  whispered 
one  of  these  young  fellows  to  the  other,  '  make  your  name ; 
scale  the  hillside  and  storm  their  fort.' 

" '  I  would  if  I  had  my  orders  to,'  was  the  quick  retort. 
'"We're  like  rabbits  in  the  underwood,'  the  youngster 
went  on.  '  Do  those  skulking  fellows  think  we're  afraid  of 
showing  ourselves?  A  good  cheer  and  a  sight  of  our  rifles 
would  soon  b  ^nd  them  to  the  right-abouts.  The  poor  old 
major  is  dead  beat  and  wants  a  nap,  or  he  wouldn't  give  such 
an  order.  Show  yourself,  Castleton ;  let  them  have  a  sight 
of  your  six  foot  six.     What,  afraid  t ' 

"In  an  instant  Johnny  Castleton  stood  up  in  the  full 
strength  of  his  manhood,  and  the  next  moment  his  brains 
were  scattered  by  a  bullet,  his  dead  body  falling  into  the 

109 


If 


The  Odd  One 

arms  of  the  friend  who  was  the  cause  of  his  death.  Do  you 
think  he  died  the  death  of  a  hero,  Betty?  How  do  you 
think  his  friend  felt,  Douglas,  when  he  had  to  write  home 
and  tell  the  widowed  mother  her  boy  would  never  come 
back  to  her?  Do  you  know,  the  folly  of  his  act  so  weighed 
upon  his  mind  that  he  left,  the  army,  and  when  I  last  heard 
of  him  his  friends  were  afraid  that  his  reason  was  giving  way. 
There,  now,  I've  made  your  faces  solemn  enough  to  satisfy 
nurse.  And  you  will  never  dare  your  sisters  to  do  foolhanly 
exploits  again,  will  you,  my  boy?  And  you  will  never  listen 
to  him  if  he  does,  girls?  Now  my  lecture  is  ended,  and  you 
can  tell  nurse  to  forgive  you  all.  Where  is  Mrs.  Giles?  I 
wonder  if  she  could  put  up  my  friend  for  a  night  or  two?" 

Captain  Stuart  put  Betty  down  from  his  knee  and  rose  to 
his  feet.  He  so  seldom  lectured  the  children  that  his  words 
left  a  deep  impression,  and  none  of  them  ever  forgot  the 
lesson  imprinted  on  their  minds.  They  were  rather  subdued 
for  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  not  altogether  pleased  at  the 
advent  of  Major  St.  Clair. 

"  We  sha'n't  get  Uncle  Harry  a  bit  to  ourselves,"  grumbled 
Douglas,  as  the  children  were  playing  in  the  garden  while 
the  gentlemen  were  at  dinner;  "he'll  be  going  out  fishing 
with  th- 1;  other  fellow  every  day,  and  he's  going  to  stay  the 
whole  week  with  him." 

"  I  like  him  rather,"  said  Molly ;  "  he  is  something  like 
Mr.  Roper." 

"He  has  nice  sad  eyes,"  put  in  Betty,  "and  he  likes 
Prince." 

But  before  long  Major  St.  Clair  was  taken  into  favor.  He 
was  a  tall,  dark  man,  with  rather  a  stern  look  until  he  smiled, 
and  then  the  children  knew  they  need  not  be  afraid,  for  lie 
had  more  smiles  than  frowns  for  them  during  his  stay.  Doug- 
las, to  his  great  delight,  was  allowed  to  go  fishing  with  them, 
no 


■MH 


UnckHarr/t  Friend 

"  You  see,"  he  confided  to  his  sisters,  "  thtry  couldn't  get 
on  very  well  without  me,  as  I'm  learning  to  put  their  bait 
on  for  them,  and  I  help  to  unpack  their  luncheon  basket, 
and  very  often  I  lie  down  on  the  bank  and  tell  them  stories ; 
they  like  that  very  much." 

One  afternoon  they  were  all  in  the  orchard  under  some 
shady  trees;  the  gentlemen  were  smoking  and  reading  the 
papers,  the  children  playinj;  a  little  way  off.  Presently  Betty 
came  sauntering  up  to  her  uncle,  Prince  close  at  her  heels. 

"  We're  going  for  a  walk,"  she  said ;  "  I  s'pose  you  wouldn't 
like  to  come  with  us?  " 

None  of  the  little  Stuarts  ever  did  anything  without  first 
inviting  their  uncle  to  participate  in  it. 

"  No,  I  wouldn't,"  he  said,  leaning  lazily  back  in  his  wicker 
chair  and  sur\'eying  the  little  figure  before  him  with  amused 
eyes.  "Where  are  you  bound?  Your  independence  of 
thought  and  action  will  be  sadly  crippled  when  you  get  *  ack 
to  town.  Does  nurse  let  you  all  scour  the  country  at  your 
own  free  will?  " 

"What  does  'scour'  mean?"  asked  Betty,  with  knitted 
brows.  "Does  It  mean  'scrub'?  for  I'm  sure  the  ccuntiy 
doesn't  want  cleaning."  Then,  not  liking  the  laugh  follow- 
ing her  words,  she  went  on  hastily :  "  Nurse  doesn't  ask  where 
I  go,  so  I  don't  tell  her ;  but  I  go  to  church  when  I  don't  go 
to  Mr.  Russell." 

"  And  what  do  you  do  there?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Betty,  looking  very  steadily  at  her  uncle,  "  if 
you  and  Major  St.  Clair  won't  say  anyth^.-g  about  il,  I'll  tell 
you." 

"  Wild  horses  won't  tear  it  from  me,"  said  the  major. 

"  I  go  to  take  some  flowers  to  a  little  dead  girl  there ;  she 
likes  to  smell  them  and  hold  them  in  her  hands  instead  of 
the  dead  lily  she  has  got.     And  then  I've  got  a  friend  who 

111 


!l 


The  Odd  One 


meets  me  there,— a  lady  she  is,— and  she  sings  the  most 
beautiful  songs  on  the  organ !  they  make  me  cry  sometimes. 
And  the  church  is  so  dark  and  still  and  cool— it's  a  beautiful 
place." 

"  Will  you  let  me  come  with  you?  "  asked  Major  St.  Clair, 
rising  as  he  spoke. 

"  It  is  an  enchanting  program,"  murmured  Uncle  Harry ; 
"  tears  among  the  dead!  I  warn  you,  my  dear  fellow,  the 
church  is  nearly  a  mile  away." 

"  I  want  to  stretch  my  legs,"  was  the  response. 

Betty  set  off  radiant,  with  much  self-importance. 

"  You  see,"  she  said,  looking  up  at  the  major  through  her 
long  lashes  as  she  trotted  along  at  his  side,  "  I  don't  always 
ask  people  to  come  with  me ;  Prince  and  I  are  quite  enough. 
But  you're  a  visitor,  and  so  is  Uncle  Harry.  You  won't  talk 
or  make  a  noise  in  church,  will  you?  And  will  you  help  ne 
to  get  some  honeysuckle  from  the  hedge  as  we  go  along? 
Violet  will  like  to  smell  it— at  least,  I  make  believe  she  will." 

The  walk  seemed  a  short  one  to  the  major,  Betty  enter- 
tained him  so  well.  When  they  reached  the  church  she 
took  him  straight  to  the  monument  she  loved  so  much,  and 
was  pleased  with  his  genuine  admiration  of  it.  She  placed 
the  honeysuckle  reverentially  in  the  clasped  hands  of  the  little 
figure,  which  she  stooped  down  to  kiss  as  usual,  and  then 
pointed  to  the  stained  window  above. 

"  Don't  you  like  it?  "  she  said  in  a  solemn  whisper.  "  And 
do  you  see  the  text?  Mr.  Russell  put  it  there.  I  was  ask- 
ing him  the  o^her  day  about  it.  I  asked  him  if  he  was  like 
one  of  the  disciples,  that  wanted  to  keep  the  children  away 
from  Jesus,  and  if  he  put  it  up  for  that ;  and  he  said  yes,  he 
did  want  to  forbid  Violet  to  go  to  Jesus  when  He  called  her. 
I  expect  Violet  is  very  glad  she  wasn't  kept  back,  don't  you 
think  so?" 
112 


u  i 


Uncle  Harry's  Friend 

"  I  expect  so,"  the  major  responded  gravely. 

"  She  wasn't  any  bigger  than  me,"  continued  Betty,  stand- 
ing before  the  window  with  clasped  hands,  and  that  upward, 
dreamy  look  that  always  came  upon  her  sweet  little  face 
when  talking  about  serious  things,  "but  she's  got  through 
tribulation  safely.  Mr.  Russell  told  me  how  she  bore  all  the 
pain  of  her  illness  for  a  whole  year  without  a  grumble ;  and 
pain  and  suffering  is  tribulation,  isn't  it?  " 

"  What  do  you  know  about  tribulation?  " 

How  often  had  Betty  been  asked  that  question ! 

"  I  know  a  great  deal  about  it,"  she  said,  looking  at  the 
major  very  earnestly;  "and  though  I  haven't  had  it,  I'm 
expecting  to.     Have  you  had  it?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  know  that  I  have,"  was  the  amused  reply. 
Then,  a  shadow  crossing  his  face,  he  added,  "Trouble  and 
I  are  not  strangers ;  I  think  I  have  had  my  share." 

"And  a  big  trouble  is  tribulation,  isn't  it?  And  it's  on 
the  way  to  heaven." 

Then  the  major  smiled  his  sweet  smile.  "  That's  it,  Betty 
—on  the  way  to  heaven.  '  We  must  through  much  tribula- 
tion enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God.' " 

"And  have  you  had  a  big  trouble?  "  persisted  the  child. 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  the  major  said  slowly,  "  a  very  big  trouble, 
Betty.  At  one  time  of  my  life  it  would  have  overwhelmed 
me,  but  I've  learned  to  take  things  differently  now." 

"  You'll  hear  my  friend  sing  about  tribulation,  p'r'aps,  if  I 
ask  her  to.  She  will  be  here  directly.  Where  will  you  sit? 
I  like  to  sit  on  the  chancel-step,  and  Prince  sits  in  my 
lap." 

"  I  will  find  a  seat  for  myself.  Perhaps  I  shall  slip  away 
into  the  sunshine  again." 

And  Major  St.  Clair  sauntered  round  the  church,  looking 
at  the  old  tablets,  until  he  heard  the  door  open,  and  tlien  he 


The  Odd  One 

slipped  into  a  seat  at  the  side  of  t'ue  church  behind  an  old 
stone  pillar. 

Betty  seated  herself  on  the  chancel-steps  after  her  greetings 
with  her  friend  were  over.  The  picture  she  made  as  she  sat 
there  was  long  riveted  on  Major  St.  Clair's  memory:  the 
golden  sunshine  streaming  in,  the  old  carved  pews  in  the 
background,  and  the  dainty  little  white  figiure  hugging  her 
spaniel  in  her  arms,  would  have  charmed  an  artist's  eye. 
But  it  was  not  this  sight  that  made  the  strong  man  suddenly 
turn  pale  and  clutch  the  back  of  the  seat  in  front  of  him  with 
nervous,  trembling  hands ;  his  startled  gaze  was  no  longer 
upon  Betty,  but  upon  the  slight,  gracfrl  figure  that  was  now 
taking  her  seat  at  the  organ. 

Betty's  clear,  childish  voice  was  heard : 

"  Please  sing  about  tribulation.  I've  brought  some  one 
with  me  who  would  like  to  hear  it.  He's  listening  at  the 
back  of  the  church." 

Nesta  gave  a  hasty  look  round,  but,  seeing  no  one,  turned 
again  to  the  organ,  and  in  a  minute  her  beautiful  voice  rose 
in  the  triumphant  strains  of  the  song  of  the  redeemed.  Major 
St.  Clair  folded  his  arms  and  stood  up  behind  his  pillar.  He 
seemed  strangely  moved,  and  as  the  last  notes  died  away  he 
hastily  quitted  the  church. 


114 


^ 


i;* 


XIII 
**WHEN  WE  TWO  MET!" 

Bettv  was  so  absorbed  in  the  music  that  she  forgot  all 
about  the  major. 

"  When  I  grow  up,  do  you  think  I  sh^U  be  able  to  play 
and  sing  like  you  do?  "  she  asked  with  a  little  sigh  of  happi- 
ness. 

"  I  dare  say  you  may,  dear." 

"But  shall  I  have  an  organ  to  play?  In  the  City  you 
can't  go  into  any  church  and  play,  can  you?  " 

"  No ;  it  is  only  because  I  know  the  clergyman  here  that 
he  gives  me  permission." 

"  And  why  do  you  never  come  to  church  here  on  Sunday?  " 

"  Because  we  have  a  little  church  nearer  us ;  but  it  ha?  K'^t 
an  organ,  and  so  I  come  over  here." 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  do  when  you're  singing?  I  shut 
my  eyes  and  pretend  I'm  in  heaven.  It's  lovely!  If  you 
shut  yours  you  could  pretend  too,  and  I  wish  you  could  go 
on  singing  for  ever  and  ever!" 

Nesta  laughed  and  kissed  the  little  eager,  upturned  face. 
"  I  shorM  get  very  tired  and  hungry,  I'm  afraid.  I  am  not 
an  angel,  Betty.  But  you're  right,  darling—  I,  too,  get  very 
near  to  heaven  when  I'm  singing."  And  she  added  mus- 
ingly : 

115 


The  Odd  One 


"  In  heart  and  mind  ascending, 
My  spirit  follows  Thee." 

When,  a  little  later,  Nesta  came  out  of  the  church  with 
Betty,  the  tall  figure  of  Major  St.  Clair  came  forward  to 
meet  them. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Miss  Fairfax." 

His  tone  was  cold  and  grave,  but  Nesta  started  and  turned 
white  to  her  very  lips ;  then  with  an  effort  she  recovered  her 
composure  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  It  is  a  long  time  since  we  have  met,"  she  said. 

There  was  a  pause,  but  Betty  came  to  the  rescue  with  the 
delightful  unconsciousness  of  childh'^od. 

"  Do  you  know  my  Miss  Fairfax?"  she  asked  the  major. 
"  You  never  told  me  you  did.  Didn't  she  sing  beautifully? 
Did  you  like  '  Tribulation '  ?  We  like  it  the  best  of  all  her 
songs,  don't  we.  Prince?  " 

She  stooped  to  caress  her  little  dog;  then,  as  he  broke 
away  from  her,  she  darted  after  him. 

Major  St.  Clair  stood  still, .-  d  his  eyes  never  moved  from 
Nesta's  face. 

"  Do  we  meet  as  strangers?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,"  she  said  a  little  unsteadily,  and  her  lips  quivered  in 
spite  of  herself  as  she  strove  in  vain  to  meet  his  gaze  calmly ; 
"as  old  friends,  I  hope." 

"  Never! "  he  said,  a  passionate  light  coming  into  his  eyes. 
"  It  must  be  everything  or  nothing  to  me,  as  I  told  you  long 
ago." 

She  was  silent ;  a  little  sigh  escaped  her,  so  hopeless  and 
yet  so  patient  that  Major  St.  Clair  continued  hotly : 

"  I  would  not  have  come  here  had  I  known  you  were  in 

this  neighborhood ;  but,  having  met,  I  cannot  go  without  a 

word  with  you.     Nesta,  you  are  not  happy ;  I  see  it  in  your 

face.     Time  has  not  soothed  and  comforted  you.     Why  will 
116 


!1 


**  When  We  Two  Met !  ** 

you  not  let  me  share  your  trouble  and  stand  by  you  when 
perhaps  you  need  a  friend  more  than  ever  you  did  in  days  of 
old?  Do  you  realize  the  blank  you  are  making  in  my  life 
as  well  as  in  your  own  ?  Yes,  I  know  I  am  taking  much  for 
granted,  but  yours  is  not  a  nature  to  change.  1  believ?  in 
you  now  as  I  always  did,  and  it  is  only  your  mistaken  ideas 
of  duty  that  have  brought  this  trouble  into  our  lives." 

He  paused,  and  then  Nesta  spoke,  looking  away  from  the 
low  churchyard  wall  ly  which  they  were  standing  to  the  hilh 
in  the  distance. 

"  I  am  sorry  we  have  met,"  she  said  simply—"  very  sorry, 
for  it  is  pain  to  us  both.  But  the  circumstances  in  my  life 
have  not  changed;  I  cannot  act  differently.  My  mother 
and  sister  require  me,  and  my  mother—"    Her  voice  faltered. 

"  Your  mother  is  still  of  the  same  opinion,"  he  said.  "  I 
look  back  with  regret  to  my  heated  words  when  last  I  saw 
her.  Time  and  another  Teacher  have  shown  me  since  where 
I  was  wrong.  But,  Nesta,  let  me  plead  my— may  I  say  our? 
—cause  with  her  again.  She  has  no  right  to  spoil  our  lives, 
and  it  is  no  true  kindness  to  her  to  allov/  her  to  do  it.  Give 
me  your  permission  to  come  and  see  her." 

"  I  cannot ;  it  will  only  stir  up  her  grief  and  pain  afresh. 
She  will  not— cannot— look  at  things  in  a  different  light." 

"  And  are  you  going  to  part  with  me  like  this?  " 

His  tone  was  low  and  husky  with  feelirq.  He  added  a 
little  drearily,  "  I  wonder,  after  all,  if  v  -•  affection  has 
cooled?    You  speak  so  calmly  about  it  a  :  it  makes  one 

think-" 

Nest  i.  heard  him  so  far,  and  then  put  out  her  hand  as  if 
to  stop  him.     "  O  Godfrey! " 

That  was  all,  but  as  the  old,  familiar  name  slipped  from 

her  lips  she  burst  into  tears,  and,  turning  aside,  leaned  her 

arms  on  the  old  wall  and  buried  her  head  in  them. 

117 


5   \\ 


1 


J. 


The  Odd  One 


Major  St.  Clair  stepped  up  quickly.  "  Nesta,  Nesta,  you 
must  not!  I  cannot  stand  it!  My  darling,  we  cannot  part 
like  this!" 

What  he  might  have  done  was  never  kno\vn.  Perhar';, 
with  his  strong  arm  round  her,  Nesta  would  have  yieldt-J 
then  and  there,  buf  a  most  inopportune  childish  voice  broke 
ill  close  by. 

"You've  made  her  cry!  You've  made  my  Miss  Fairfax 
cry ! "  And  with  a  little  rush  Betty  flew  to  comfort  her  friend. 

In  an  instant  Nesta  was  standing  erect  again. 

"  It  is  nothing,  darling ;  we  have  been  talking  over  old 
times.     Good-by,  Major  St.  Clair." 

She  turned  down  a  path  at  the  side  of  the  church,  while 
Major  St.  Clair  gazed  after  her  in  bewilderment  and  vexation. 

"  Oh! "  he  said,  shaking  his  head  at  Betty  as  they  retraced 
their  way  homeward,  "  you're  like  a  little  boy  I  once  knew, 
who  would  bring  me  a  delicious  plate  of  cherries.  '  Would 
you  like  to  have  some,  major?  Look  at  them ;  aren't  they 
lovely?'  And  then,  as  I  stretched  out  my  hand,  he  would 
snatch  them  back  with  malicious  glee  and  gobble  them  up  in 
my  sight." 

"  He  was  a  very  rude  little  boy,"  said  Betty,  a  little  of- 
fended, "  and  I  don't  think  I'm  a  bit  like  him,  for  I  haven't 
brought  you  anything  this  afternoon." 

Very  restless  and  uneasy  was  Major  St.  Clair  all  that  even- 
ing. Captain  Stuart  more  than  once  took  him  to  task  for  his 
moodiness  and  absence  of  mind,  but  was  quite  unsuccessful 
in  eliciting  a  satisfactory  explanation. 

The  next  day  they  went  off  fishing  together,  but  about  four 
o'clock  Major  St.  Clair  left  his  friend  and  sauntered  back  to 
the  house.  Finding  Betty  and  Prince  playing  together  out- 
side, he  called  her  to  him,  and,  lying  full  length  on  the  grass, 
led  her  on  to  talk  about  Nesta.  Betty  innocently  fell  in  with 
US 


**  When  We  Two  Met  r 


his  wish ;  she  gave  him  a  graphic  description  of  her  day  at 
Holly  Grange,  and  then  went  back  to  the  day  when  she  f  .t 
met  Mrs.  Fairfax  in  the  wood. 

"  She's  like  a  queen,"  said  the  eager  child,  "  her  face  is  so 
stem  and  proud ;  but  she's  very  sad.  Every  grown-up  per- 
son seems  sad  about  here!  I  like  Mrs.  Fairfax  very  much ; 
she  gave  me  Prince." 

Major  St.  Clair  listened,  and  asked  questions,  and  then 
suddenly  started  to  his  feet. 

"  Come  for  a  walk  with  me,"  he  said.  "  Wait  till  I  have 
written  a  letter,  and  then  we  will  start." 

"  To  church  again?  "  inquired  Betty. 

"  No,  not  to  church ;  to  Holly  Grange." 

"  It's  miles  and  miles,"  said  Betty,  dubiously ;  "  I  went  in 
a  pony  carriage,  but  if  you  go  by  the  wood  it  is  shorter." 

"  Oh,  we  shall  manage  it  very  well,  and  if  you  are  tired  I 
will  carry  you." 

Major  St.  Clair's  tone  was  quite  cheerful,  and  Betty  set  off 
with  him,  delighted  at  being  chosen  as  his  companion. 

"  Are  you  going  to  see  Miss  Fairfax?  "  she  asked  presently. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  shall  go  into  the  house  at  all ;  but  I 
want  you  to  take  a  note  to  Mrs.  Fairfax  and  bring  me  back 
an  answer." 

Betty  colored  up  with  pleasure.  "  I  shall  like  to  do  that," 
she  said ;  "  it's  such  a  nice  house  inside,  and  you  should  see 
the  flowers!  I  think  I  could  be  quite  happy  if  I  were  Mrs. 
Fairfax,  couldn't  you?  " 

She  chattered  on,  and  when  at  last  the  gates  were  reached 
Major  St.  Clair  intrusted  her  with  the  important  letter. 

"  Give  it  to  Mrs.  Fairfax  yourself,  Betty,  and  tell  her  I 
would  like  to  see  her  very  much." 

Betty  nodded  and  clasped  the  letter  tightly  in  one  little 
hand;  Prince  followed  her  closely  up  the  drive.     The  hall 

119 


^1   !l 


k   )] 


1  il 


the  Odd  One 

door  stood  open,  and  for  a  moment  the  child  hesitated ;  then 
the  old  butler  crossed  the  hall,  and  she  called  out  eagerly : 

"  Fiease,  can  I  come  in  and  see  Mrs.  Fairfax?  " 

The  man  looked  surprised.  "  I  don't  think  she  will  see 
you,"  he  said,  smiling ;  "  Mrs.  Fairfax  sees  no  visitors." 

"  But  I'm  not  a  visitor,"  said  the  little  girl ;  "  I'm  only 
Betty,  and  I've  got  a  letter  to  give  her." 

"  I  will  go  and  see." 

He  disappeared,  but  returned  a  minute  after. 

"  Come  in,  missy— this  way." 

He  led  the  child  into  the  parlor,  where  Mrs.  Fairfax  was 
presiding  at  the  afternoon  tea-table.  Nesta  was  not  there, 
and  Grace  was  just  leaving  the  room. 

A  smile  lightened  Mrs.  Fairfax's  grave  face  at  the  sight  of 
Betty. 

"All  alone?  "  she  asked,  bending  down  to  kiss  her. 

"  I've  come  to  bring  you  a  letter,"  said  Betty,  dimpling 
over  with  pleasure  and  importance. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  made  her  sit  down  in  a  little  cushioned  chair 
and  took  the  note  in  her  hand.  As  she  read  it  she  knitted 
her  brows,  and  her  lips  took  their  sternest  curve ;  then,  rising, 
she  went  to  the  farther  end  of  the  room  and  stood  looking 
out  of  the  low  French  window,  her  back  turned  to  Betty  and 
her  hands  clenched  convulsively  by  her  side. 

Nesta  was  right  in  surmising  what  a  torrent  of  painful 
memories  would  be  aroused  by  Major  St.  Clair's  advent  in 
their  neighborhood. 

If  the  letter  had  come  a  few  weeks  before  there  would 
have  been  only  one  answer,  but  Mrs.  Fairfax  had  been  learn- 
ing lately  from  the  great  Master  Himself,  and  her  heart  was 
softened  .and  subdued.  Still  it  was  a  hard  struggle,  and  pride 
fought  for  predominance.  At  length  she  turned  round  and 
went  to  her  writing-desk,  and  then  Betty  crept  up  softly  to  her. 
120 


^  When  We  Two  Met!" 

"  Major  St.  Clair  asked  me  to  ask  you  to  see  him,"  she 
said,  laying  her  little  hand  on  Mrs.  Fairfax's  knee. 

"  I  will  write  my  answer,  Betty ;  I  cannot  do  that,"  was 
the  cold  reply,  as  Mrs.  Fairfax  turned  her  head  away  from 
the  child. 

But  Betty  was  not  to  be  put  off. 

"  I  think  he  would  like  to  see  you  very  much ,  and  you'd 
like  him,  for  he  is  Uncle  Harry's  friend ;  and  he  has  such 
sad  eyes,  and  he  has  been  through  tribulation  like  you— at 
least,  he  has  had  a  big  trouble,  he  told  me,  and  that's  just 
the  same,  isn't  it?" 

There  was  no  answer. 

Betty  continued :  "  Shall  I  just  go  out  and  bring  him  in? 
I've  been  telling  him  about  you  this  afternoon,  and  how  you 
gave  me  the  lilies  and  Prince,  and  he  liked  to  hear  it.  He 
asked  me  a  lot  of  questions,  and  I  think  he  wants  to  see  you, 
and  if  you're  like  a  queen,  like  I  told  him." 

Then  Mrs.  Fairfax  lifted  the  child  on  her  knee.  "  O  Betty, 
Betty!"  was  all  she  said,  but  some  glistening  drops  fell  on 
the  child's  curly  head  as  the  gray  head  was  bent  over  it,  and 
Betty  wondered  why  Mrs.  Fairfax's  voice  sounded  so  strange. 
"  I  think  you  will  have  to  bring  him  in  here,"  Mrs.  Fairfax 
said  at  last,  and  Betty  trotted  out  of  the  room  in  great  delight. 
She  found  the  n.ajor  pacing  up  and  down  the  road  with  a 
white,  resolute  face.  He  threw  away  the  cigar  he  was  smok- 
ing when  he  saw  the  child,  and  asked,  with  anxiety  in  his 
dark  eyes : 

"Well,  little  woman,  how  have  you  fared?  " 
"  You're  to  come  in  and  see  her." 

"  Thank  God! "  And  not  another  word  did  the  major  say 
till  he  was  in  the  parlor. 

It  was  a  constrained  and  formal  greeting  between  the  two, 
and  then  Mrs.  Fairfax  turned  to  Betty : 

121 


1  i 


I  I. 


The  Odd  One 


"Will  you  run  into  the  garden,  dear,  till  we  call  you?  I 
think  Grace  is  out  there." 

Betty  obeyed.  Grace  was  walking  .slowly  up  and  down 
the  path,  enveloped  in  shawls,  and  did  not  look  'veil  pleased 
when  the  childish  voice  sounded  in  her  ear : 

"  May  I  come  and  walk  with  you?  " 

*'  Were  you  sent  out  here?  Nesta,  I  suppose,  as  usual,  is 
out,  so  she  will  not  be  able  to  look  after  you,  and  I  certainly 
am  not  in  a  fit  state  of  health  to  amuse  you  and  keep  you 
out  of  mischief." 

"  I'm  not  going  to  get  into  mischief,  really,"  protested 
Betty,  in  an  aggrieved  tone ;  "  I'll  walk  quietly  along  with 
you,  and  won't  even  pick  a  flower.   Are  you  better  to-day?  " 

"  No,  I  am  not  better ;  I  don't  expect  I  ever  shall  be, 
though  I  can  get  no  sympathy  from  any  one  in  this  house." 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?  "  asked  Betty. 

"  Now  if  you  are  going  to  worry  me  with  questions,  you 
can  just  run  away.  If  you  were  to  be  kept  awake  night 
after  night,  and  never  know  what  it  was  to  be  without  head- 
aches, having  every  nerve  in  your  body  quivering  from  ex- 
haustion, you  wouldn't  wonder  what  the  matter  was." 

"  I  expect  you're  like  Violet,  only  she  could  never  leave 
her  bed.  Mr.  Russell  said  she  would  sometimes  have  no 
sleep  all  night,  and  she  was  so  patient,  she  used  to  say, '  Read 
me  about  "  There  shall  be  no  pain." '  Mr.  Russell  said  he 
wouldn't  have  been  half  so  patient  as  she  was.  And  now 
she  is  singing  right  in  the  middle  of  'these  are  they  which 
came  out  of  great  tribulation.'  Wouldn't  you  like  to  be 
her?  " 

Grace  was  silent.  Betty's  active  little  tongue  turned  to 
other  subjects.  She  told  about  her  visit  to  the  Hall,  of  her 
"  dead  figure  "  which  was  being  made  out  of  "  soft  putty  " ; 
of  Prince's  misdemeanors  when  he  tried  to  chase  chickens, 
122 


"When  We  Two  Metl** 

and  then  came  back  to  his  little  mistress  with  his  tail  between 
his  legs ;  of  Douglas  and  Molly's  wonderful  games,  and  the 
twins'  talents  for  getting  into  trouble;  she  told  her  of  her 
walk  on  the  roof,  and  the  story  of  the  young  soldiers  related 
by  Uncle  Harry.  And  Grace  listened,  and  eventually  was 
amused  and  interested  in  spite  of  herself. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  Betty  was  summoned  to  the 
house,  and  then  she  met  the  major  in  the  hall. 

"  Run  in,  little  or      md  wish  Mrs.  Fairfax  good-by." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  stoop*,  to  kiss  Betty ;  all  the  hard  lines  in 
her  face  had  disappeared,  and  her  voice  was  unusually 
gentle. 

"You  must  con;-^  and  see  me  another  day,  when  I  have 
no  business  to  occupy  me." 

And  Betty  put  her  arms  round  her  neck  and  gave  her  a 
delighted  hug. 

"  You  will  meet  Nesta  coming  back  from  the  church  if 
you  keep  to  the  lane,"  Mrs.  Fairfax  said,  speaking  to  Major 
St.  Clair,  " ai.     "C  shall  expect  you  to  dinner  to-morrow." 

He  raised  his  hat,  and  strode  round  the  shrubbery  with 
such  energy  that  it  was  all  Betty  could  do  to  keep  up  with 
him. 

"  Don't  you  think  Mrs.  Fairfax  like  a  queen?  "  asked 
Betty,  presently.     "  Was  she  like  what  I  told  you?  " 

"  I  have  seen  Mrs.  Fairfax  before,"  was  the  major's  short 
reply.     And  Betty  gave  a  little  disappointed  "  Oh! " 

Not  long  afterward  they  came  in  sight  of  Nesta.  She 
was  walking  along  rather  slowly,  her  eyes  and  her  thoughts 
far  away,  but  when  she  saw  who  it  was  a  quick  color  spread 
over  her  face. 

Major  St.  Clair  stepped  forward  quickly. 

"Your  mother  has  sent  me  to  you,"  he  said,  and  there 

was  a  glad  ring  in  his  tone. 

123 


TheOdaOne 

Nesta  looked  up  at  him  bewildered. 

"  My  mother!      Have  you  seen  her?  " 

"  Yes,  thanks  to  this  little  person  here  with  me." 

Betty  was  kissed,  but  for  once  Nesta  seemed  oblivious  of 
her  presence.  The  child  could  not  understand  it,  neither 
could  she  understand  the  explanation  that  followed  in  low, 
earnest  tones.  She  saw  Nesta's  eyes  light  up  with  a  sudden 
joy  !x  id  then  fill  with  tears;  she  saw  Major  St.  Clair  bend 
his  head  very  close  to  hers;  and  though  she  stood  silenily 
by,  she  might  just  as  well  have  been  miles  away,  for  all  the 
notice  that  she  received.    At  last,  with  a  little  sigh,  she  said  • 

"  I'm  rather  tired ;  I  think  I'll  go  home  with  Prince." 

Nesta  turned  to  her  at  once. 

"You  poor  little  mite!  Godfrey,  will  you  carry  her?  I 
must  leave  you.  No,  don't  come  with  me ;  I  shall  see  you 
to-morrow,  and  I  would  rather  see  my  mother  alone.  She 
has  been  so  different  lately,  but  I  never  dared  to  hope  for 
this!    Good-by,  Betty  ;  yf)u  have  been  our  little  benefactor." 

Betty  was  hoisted  on  t,  .  '^ad  shoulders  of  the  major  and 
carried  home  in  silence ;  he  was  busy  with  his  own  thoughts, 
and  she  was  tired  and  sleepy. 

They  found  Captain  Stuart  impatiently  waiting  for  dinner. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  he  asked.  "Has  Betty  be- 
witched you?  " 

"She  has  done  me  a  good  turn  to-day,"  responded  the 
major. 

Betty  slipped  her  little  hand  into  her  uncle's. 

"We've  been  to  Holly  Grange,  Uncle  Harry.  I  think 
Major  St.  Clair  and  my  Miss  Fairfax  must  have  quarreled 
yesterday,  for  he  made  her  cry ;  but  they  kissed  each  other 
and  made  it  up  to-day,  and  now  we're  all  friends." 


124 


XIV 
A  HERCyS  DEA7  ' 

Captain  Stuart's  week  was  prolonged  to  a  fortnight, 
much  to  the  children's  delight.  They  were  all  astonished 
when  they  heard  that  Major  St.  Clair  was  going  to  marry 
Betty's  Miss  Fairfax.  Betty  herself  was  very  puzzled  about 
it,  for  she  was  still  unconscious  of  how  large  a  part  she  had 
played  in  the  little  drama,  and  only  wondered  sometimes 
that  Nesta  seemed  to  care  so  little  for  the  organ  now,  and 
was  so  often  occupied  in  walking  or  driving  with  the  major. 
This,  perhaps,  made  her  enjoy  her  visits  to  Mr.  Russell's 
studio  the  more  ;  and  when  one  day  he  nut  the  finishing  touch 
to  the  bit  of  sculpture,  she  looked  rather  wistfully  at  him. 

"  And  mustn't  I  come  here  any  more  now?  " 

"  Come  as  o^ten  as  you  like,"  was  the  learty  reply ;  "  I 
like  you  chatting  away  to  me  \  hile  I  work." 

"  I've  a  good  many  friends  here,"  announced  Betty,  upon 
the  last  evening  of  Captain  Stuart's  stay.  "  I  think  I've 
more  friends  than  Molly  and  Douglas  have.  They  don't 
care  about  grown-up  people ;  I  rather  like  th  ^m! " 

"  We  Uke  Uncle  Harry,"  protested  Molly. 

"  And  who  do  you  like  the  best  of  all  your  friends,  Betty?  " 
asked  Major  St.  Clair. 

"  I  think  I  like  Mr.  Russell.     You  see,  he's  an  odd  one, 

125 


The  Odd  One 


like  I  used  to  be  before  I  had  Prince.  Miss  Fairfax  used 
to  be  an  odd  one  too,  but  she's  one  of  a  couple  now.  Mr. 
Russell  has  got  no  one ;  he's  quite  alone." 

There  was  great  laughter  at  Betty's  speech. 

"I  think  I'm  an  odd  one,  Betty,"  Captain  Stuart  said. 
"  What  do  you  advise?    My  making  myself  into  a  couple?  " 

"Two  and  two  arc  so  much  more  comfortable,"  went  on 
Betty,  gravely ;  "  I  don't  really  know  what  I  should  do  if  I 
hadn't  Prince  to  go  with!  Really,  at  the  bottom  of  my  heart, 
I  love  him  better  than  anybody.  Couldn't  you  get  a  dog, 
if  you  can't  get  any  one  else.  Uncle  Harry?  You'd  find 
yourself  in  a  very  nice  couple  then." 

How  Captain  Stuart  laughed!  And  Betty  was  the  only 
one  who  could  see  no  joke  in  the  matter. 

After  the  gentlemen  had  left,  the  children  had  a  quiet 
time.  Betty  would  still  steal  away  to  the  church  to  hear 
Nest?  ^ing  and  play;  and  once  all  the  children  spent  a 
day  '.y  Grange.     Nurse  was  petting  a  little  tired  of 

the  ountry  Hfe,  and  began  to  talk  about  the  return  to 

the  C.i:> ,  which  filled  her  little  charg'^s'  hearts  with  dismay. 

"  It  will  be  dreadful  to  sit  up  and  do  lessons  again,"  moaned 
Molly. 

"  I  think,"  said  Douglas,  slowly,  "that  I  shall  get  lost  the 
day  we  are  going  back,  and  then  I  shall  live  in  the  wood  in 
that  little  hut.  I  shall  be  a  kind  of  wild  man,  and  I  shall 
eat  berries  and  nuts,  and  when  I  want  some  meat  I  shall  kill 
a  rabbit  and  cook  him.  I  really  cannot  stand  being  cooped 
up  in  that  nursery  at  home  again." 

"  I've  never,  never  been  so  happy  in  my  life  before,"  Betty 
chimed  in ;  "  but  then,  of  course,  I  shall  take  Prince  with 
me.  Fancy!  if  we  had  never  come  to  this  farm,  we  should 
never  have  gone  to  that  wood,  and  I  should  never  have  seen 
Mrs.  Fairfax,  and  she  would  never  have  sent  me  Prince!" 
126 


A  Hero's  Death 


"  It's  always  '  Prince '  with  you,"  Douglas  said  a  little  im- 
patiently ;  "  you  can  talk  of  no  one  else." 

The  day  following  the  one  on  which  this  conversation  was 
held,  Farmer  Giles  came  ini-.  i.-.  kitchen  in  great  perturba- 
tion about  twelve  o'clock. 

"  Where  are  the  childrt   ?  "  he  demarued  quickly. 

Nurse  came  into  the  ro  ■'-,  K  idinfj;  Bjbby,  who  had  been 
undergoing  a  change  of  garments  through  a  tumble  into  the 
duck-pond. 

"  They're  out  in  the  meadows,"  she  said.  "  What's  the 
matter?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  there's  a  dog  of  Mr.  Dart's  loose ;  I've  just 
heard  say  it's  gone  mad  and  can't  be  found!  It's  these 
dreadful  hot  days.  I've  just  chained  up  Rough.  Little  Miss 
Betty  must  look  after  that  dog  of  hers.  Tom  Dart  and  a 
neighbor  is  out  huntin'  for  theirs  now." 

"A  mad  dog!"  exclaimed  nurse,  in  horror.  "Call  them 
in,  Jack,  do.     What  should  I  do  if  they  met  it?  " 

And  leaving  Bobby  in  the  kitchen,  she,  as  well  as  her 
brother,  ran  out  to  warn  the  children.  They  found  them  in 
a  clover-field,  under  the  trees.  Douglas  was  busy  trying  to 
work  his  way  inside  an  old  hollow  trunk,  Molly  was  dig- 
ging down  a  rabbit  hole,  and  Billy  was  waiting  upon  them 
both. 

"Where  is  Miss  Betty?" 

"  She's  gone  along  the  lane,"  said  Douglas,  looking  up 
with  a  very  heated  face ;  "  I  sent  her  to  the  brook  to  get 
some  water ;  we're  going  to  lay  in  provisions  for  a  siege,  and 
this  tree  will  be  our  hiding-place." 

"  And  I'm  digging  for  treasure  money,"  said  Molly. 

"  Is  Prince  with  her?  "  asked  nurse,  anxiously. 

"  Yes ;  he  won't  ever  stay  with  us." 

"They're  safe  enough  in  this  field,"  said  Farmer  G''es, 

127 


The  Odd  One 


looking  round ;  "  but  they'd  best  not  wander  in  the  lanes. 
We  must  have  Miss  Betty  back." 

Betty  meanwhile  was  trotting  contentedly  along,  hugging 
an  old  earthenware  jar. 

"  We'll  get  them  some  water,  Prince,  and  then  you  shall 
be  the  sentry;  Douglas  said  you  could  be.  Directly  you 
hear  a  step  you  must  bark!" 

Prince  looked  up,  wagged  his  tail  in  response,  and  began 
to  burrow  in  the  grass  for  imaginary  frogs. 

And  then  Betty,  feeling  her  jar  very  heavy,  sat  down  against 
the  hedge-bank  to  rest.  She  remained  there  some  time, 
chatting  away  to  her  dog,  and  was  just  starting  on  her  way 
again  when  shouts  up  the  lane  startled  her. 

A  moment  after,  and  straight  down  the  lane  toward  her 
tore  a  large  retriever ;  his  mouth  was  open  anO  covered  with 
foam,  and  he  kept  making  snaps  at  the  air  as  he  rushed  along. 
After  him  came  two  men  and  some  boys. 

"  Out  of  the  way ! "  they  shouted ;  "  he's  mad ! " 
Poor  little  Betty  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  lane,  quite 
petrif  >d.    It  was  a  very  narrow  lane ;  the  banks  and  hedges 
were  high  on  either  side,  and  there  literally  seemed  no  escape 
for  the  child.     On  he  came  with  open  jaws  and  bloodshot 
eyes,  and  in  another  moment  a  shrill,  childish  scream  rose  in 
the  air,  which  sent  an  awful  chill  through  nurse's  blood,  for 
she  was  now  close  upon  the  scene.   She  arrived  just  as  Tom 
Dart  had  got  near  enough  to  the  dog  to  fire,  and  the  report 
of  a  gun  went  off  as  she  clambered  over  a  gate  into  the  lane. 
She  saw  the  body  of  the  poor  beast  in  the  road,  with  Tom 
standing  over  it,  but  with  trembling  limbs  made  her  way 
along  to  the  Uttle  crowd  now  assembled  higher  up  the  lane. 
They  were  bending  down  over  something  in  the  middle  of 
the  road.     Was  it  Betty? 

"  Is  she  safe?     Who  is  hurt  ?  "  she  gasped  as  she  pushed 
128 


A  Hero's  Death 

her  way  through,  Thc-e,  in  agony  of  grief  and  terror,  Betty 
was  sitting  upon  the  ground,  shielding  with  her  httle  arms 
her  precious  dog.  "You  sha'n't  take  him  from  me— you 
sha'n't;  he's  my  very  own,  and  he's  nearly  killed!"  she  was 
crying  frantically. 

Nurse  seized  hold  of  her  and  the  dog  together.  "Are 
you  hurt,  child?     Speak!     Thank  God,  it's  only  the  dog! " 

Farmer  Giles  was  already  there,  questioning  the  excited 
crowd.  "  He  was  making  straight  for  her,  but  the  little  dog 
dashed  in  front  just  in  time.  See  how  he's  bitten!  Take 
him  away  from  the  little  missy ;  he'll  have  to  be  shot!  'Twas 
lucky  for  her  she  had  him  with  her! "  This  and  more  was 
told  with  gaps  and  pauses ;  but  Betty  saw  and  heard  nothing 
of  what  was  going  on  around  her.  She  seemed  almost  beside 
herself  with  terror  and  grief. 

"Take  us  away,  nurse!  Get  a  doctor!  he's  bleeding! 
He  mustn't,  oh,  he  mustn't  die!  Don't  touch  him!  Oh, 
I  won't,  I  won't  let  him  go!" 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Farmer  Giles,  soothingly ;  "  I  won't 
hurt  him.  We  must  see  where  he  is  bitten ;  perhaps  I  can 
put  him  to  rights.  You  '"*  me  carry  him  home.  There, 
see,  he's  been  bitten  in  ':!      But  you're  hurting  him 

holding  him  so  tightly!  t  me  carry  him  for  you,  and 

you  can  walk  by  my  side.'' 

"  Will  you  bathe  him  and  put  a  bandage  round,  and  make 
him  well  again?  " 

There  was  hope  dawning  in  the  blue  eyes  raised  so  trust- 
fully to  his,  and  for  a  moment  the  farmer  hesitated ;  then  he 
said,  "  We'll  do  the  best  for  him  we  can." 

And  Betty  opened  her  arms,  and  Prince  was  tenderly  lifted 
up,  and  a  piece  of  sacking  the  farmer  happened  to  have  with 
him  as  wrapped  round  him.  He  lifted  his  head,  and  tried 
to  L  <  Betty's  little  hands  as  he  was  being  taken  from  her ; 

129 


The  Odd  One 

and  she,  with  a  fresh  burst  of  sobbing,  got  up  from  the 
ground,  and,  clutching  hold  of  the  farmer's  coat,  walked 
back  to  the  house  with  him,  nurse  trying  in  vain  to  comfort 

her. 

Arrived  at  the  farm,  nurse  took  decided  measures. 

"You  come  indoors  with  me,  there's  a  good  child,  and  let 
Jack  attend  to  Prince.  He  will  come  and  lell  you  when 
he's  better.  No,  I  won't  let  you  take  him  in  your  arms 
again— now  I  mean  it." 

"  1  must  just  see  him  once  more— I  must,  nurse! " 

"  Aye,"  said  the  farmer,  giving  nurse  a  peculiar  'ook,  "  she 
shall  have  one  more  look  at  him  before  I  take  i.. 

The  sacking  was  uncovered,  and  Prince's  ears  pric.-.a  up 
and  his  bright  brown  eyes  sought  his  little  mistress's  face. 
Betty  bent  over  him,  and  was  allowed  to  kiss  the  back  of  his 
brown  silky  head.  "  My  httle  darling,"  she  whispered,  though 
tears  began  to  fall  again,  "  I  wish  I  had  been  bitten  instead 
of  you!"  Then,  turning  to  Farmer  Giles,  she  said,  clasping 
her  little  hands  in  agony  of  entreaty : 

"  You'll  be  as  quick  as  ever  you  can,  won't  you?  You 
won't  be  more  than  five  minutes  bathing  his  neck  and  binding 
it  up,  will  you?  And  then  I'll  sit  ly  and  nurse  him  till  he 
gets  better.  Will  you  put  him  in  this  basket  and  bring  him 
to  me  as  soon  as  ever  yru  can?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  the  farmer,  a  little  gruffly,  and  then  he 
went  out  to  the  stables.  And  Betty  stood  by  the  kitchen 
window,  too  well  trained  in  obedience  to  attempt  to  follow 
him,  but  with  her  little  heart  overflowing  with  longing  to  have 
Prince  in  her  arms  again. 

"  Now,"  said  nurse,  very  kindly  but  determinedly,  "  come 
up  into  the  nursery,  and  let  me  wash  your  face  and  hands 
and  put  you  on  a  clean  pinafore." 

"  He  will  get  better,  won't  he,  nurse?  He  didn't  look 
130 


A  Hero's  Death 

very  hurt.     Can  I  give  him  some  bread  and  milk  when 
Farmer  Giles  brings  him  in? '' 

Nurse  evaded  this  question ;  she  seemed  ill  at  ease ;  and 
when  a  few  minutes  after  the  report  of  a  gun  went  off,  she 
started  violently,  then  gave  a  sigh  of  relief.  Betty  was  too 
absorbed  in  her  own  thoughts  to  notice  this,  and  directly  her 
toilet  was  finished  she  ran  downstairs  to  the  kitchen  again. 

"  Has  Prince  come  in,  Mrs.  Giles?     Is  he  better?  " 

"Bless  your  little  heart!"  s?id  Mrs.  Giles,  bustling  about, 
"Jack  will  be  in  directly,  and  he'll  tell  you." 

And  a  few  minutes  afier  Farmer  Giles  appeared.  Betcy 
ran  to  him  with  outstretched  hands.  "  Where  is  he?  Are 
you  going  to  take  me  to  him?  " 

The  farmer  looked  helplestly  at  his  wife. 

"  Where  is  nurse  ?  '  he  said. 

"  Keeping  out  of  the  way,"  muttered  Mrs.  Giles. 

The  farmer  fetched  a  deep  breath.  "  Come  along,  then," 
he  said ;  "  I've  done  my  best,  and  mustn't  shirk  the  conse- 
quence." 

He  took  hold  of  Betty's  hand  and  led  her  to  the  stabler ; 
twice  he  cleared  his  throat  as  if  about  to  speak,  and  then  at 
the  door,  keeping  one  hand  on  the  latch,  he  put  his  other  one 
under  Betty's  little  chin  and  raised  her  face. 

"  You'll  be  a  brave,  good  little  maid,  won't  you?  "  he  said ; 
"  and  you'll  bear  up,  for  'tis  better  for  the  little  dog  than  to 
live  in  suffering." 

He  opened  the  door,  and  Betty,  not  in  the  slightest  un- 
derstanding his  words,  pushed  her  way  breathlessly  in. 

There  in  his  basket,  cold  and  stiff,  lay  poor  little  Prince. 
For  one  minute  Betty  thought  he  was  asleep,  and  then  the 
awful  truth  dawned  upon  her.  With  her  blue  eyes  dilating 
with  horror,  she  turned  and  faced  the  old  farmer,  and  every 

vestige  of  color  left  her  cheeks. 

131 


. 


The  Odd  One 

"  He's  not  dead! "  she  cried.  "  Wake  him  up,  Mr.  Giles ; 
hesha'n'tbedead!" 

"  My  little  maid,  I'm  dreadful  sorry  for  you,  but  'tis  better 
so ;  and  his  neck  were  near  bitten  through ;  he  couldn't  have 
lived  long  in  any  cast." 

Betty  flung  herself  on  the  floor  with  such  a  sharp  wail  of 
despair  that  Farmer  Giles  felt  a  lump  rising  in  his  throat. 
He  knew  there  could  be  no  comfort  yet  for  the  broken- 
hearted child ;  that  she  must  go  through  her  trouble  alone ; 
words  at  such  a  time  were  useless ;  and  after  watching  her 
for  some  minutes,  he  slipped  away  to  fetch  nurse  to  bring 
her  in. 

And  Betty  lay  with  her  arms  round  Prince's  basket,  sob- 
bing her  very  heart  out,  and  feeling  as  if  light  and  joy  and 
gladness  had  gone  out  of  her  life  forever.  When  nurse  came 
in  a  little  later,  and  put  a  gentle  hand  on  the  little  crouching 
figure,  Betty  turned  round,  furious  in  her  grief. 

"  Go  away;  I  sha'n't  leave  Prince!  I  wish  I  could  die! 
O  nurse,  nurse!"  and  a  fresh  burst  of  sobs  shook  her;  "tell 
me  he  isn't  dead— tell  me  he  isn't!" 

Nurse  tried  in  vain  to  pacify  her;  Betty  was  too  over- 
wrought to  listen.  One  thing  she  steadfastly  refused  to  do, 
and  that  was  to  leave  her  dog ;  and  nurse  finally  had  to  take 
her  up  in  her  arms  by  force  and  carry  her,  shrieking  and 
struggling,  to  the  house.  Poor  little  Betty  did  not  prove 
herself  a  heroine,  but  nurse  made  allowance  for  her,  and  was 
unusually  patient  and  tender. 

"  It's  like  a  bit  of  her  life  gone,"  she  confided  to  Mrs. 
Giles.  "I  always  think  it  a  pity  when  children  get  so 
wrapped  up  with  their  pets ;  but  Miss  Betty  never  does  any- 
thing by  halves." 

All  that  hot  afternoon  Betty  lay  on  her  bed  in  the  nursery ; 
nurse  could  not  tempt  her  to  eat  any  dinner.    And  when  the 


' 


A  Hero's  Death 

first  paroxysm  of  grief  was  over,  she  lay  there,  white  and 
silent,  with  little  clenched  hands,  and  now  and  theii  a  quick- 
drawn  sob  escaping  her. 

Nurse  was  relieved  and  thankful  when,  going  in  quietly 
shortly  before  tea-time,  she  found  her  fast  asleep,  utterly 
worn  out  by  her  trorble.  ■ 


133 


sssss 


XV 


I 


COMFORTED 

Betty  did  not  wake  before  the  children's  bedtime,  and 
nurse  did  not  disturb  her ;  she  trusted  that  a  long  night's  rest 
would  do  her  good. 

But  early  the  next  morning  the  awakening  came,  and  with 
it  an  undefined  sense  of  misery.  The  little  hand  was  at  once 
put  out  for  Prince's  basket. 

"Prince!  wake  up,  darling!" 

There  was  no  basket !  What  had  happened?  Was  it  all 
an  ugly  dream?     But  where  was  Prince? 

And  then  Molly  woke  by  feeling  a  tugging  at  her  bed- 
clothes, and  there  was  Betty,  with  round,  frightened  eyes, 
standing  over  her. 

"  Molly,  Molly,  wake  up!  tell  me  it  is  only  a  dream! 
Where  is  Prince  ?  " 

Molly  sat  up,  rubbed  her  eyes,  and  tried  to  recover  her 
lost  senses;  t'"n  she  looked  sorrowfully  at  her  little  sister. 

"  Don't  you  remember,  Betty  ?  You  get  into  bed  with  me 
and  I'll  tell  you  again.  Nurse  told  us  all  about  it ;  and  me 
and  Douglas  are  dreadf'iUy  sorry  too! " 

Betty  crept  into  Molly'.-,  bed  with  much  heart-sinking ;  the 
bad  dream  was  truth  then,  and  Prince  was  dead! 

"  Douglas  and  I  went  to  see  him  in  the  stable,"  Moliy 
134 


) 


j 


! 


I 


Comforted 

continued  in  a  whisper.  "  Farmer  Giles  said  he  saved  your 
life,  so  he  was  quite  a  hero,  Betty.  Don't  you  think  he  ought 
to  have  a  tombstone  telling  about  it?  Douglas  wondered  if 
you  would  go  into  mourning  for  him ;  but  I  don't  think  people 
wear  black  for  dogs,  do  they?  " 

"  He  saved  my  life,"  murmured  Betty ;  "  oh,  why  did  he? 
I  wish  I'd  died  instead ;  if  Prince  is  dead  I  can't  live! "  And 
then,  with  a  fresh  burst  )f  tears  she  sobbed,  "  And  I  shall 
be  the  odd  one  again!  I  shall  always  be  left  out,  and  I 
sha'n't  be  in  a  couple  any  more!  And  oh,  I  must  see  Prince 
again— dear,  darling  Prince!  He  was  the  only  friend  I've 
ever  had."  Then,  drying  her  tears,  she  sat  up.  "  I'm  going 
to  the  stable  to  look  at  him  once  again,  Molly.  I  must  give 
him  a  real  good-by  kiss ;  I  couldn't  yesterday." 

"  But  he's  buried,"  Molly  put  in  quickly.  "  After  tea  last 
night  we  had  his  funeral.  Farmer  Giles  dug  a  grave  for  him 
under  our  nice  ofd  apple-tree  in  the  orchard ;  he  said  it  was 
best  to  get  him  out  of  your  sight." 

This  was  a  terrible  blow  to  Betty.  "  I  think  I  might  have 
been  at  his  funeral ;  he  was  my  dog,  and  you  and  Douglas 
didn't  care  for  him  a  bit!  Farmer  Giles  is  a  horrid  man! 
But,  oh  dear,  oh  dear,  I  don't  care  for  anything  now  he's 

dead!" 

And  the  curly  head  sank  back  on  the  pillow ;  and,  like 
Ahab  of  old,  Betty  turned  her  face  to  the  wall  and  refused 
to  be  comforted. 

For  the  next  few  days  Betty  gave  nurse  much  anxiety ; 
she  crept  about  with  a  white  face  and  flagging  footsteps,  re- 
fused to  play  with  the  other  children,  and  spent  most  of  her 
time  sitting  by  Prince's  grave.  She  had  no  appetite,  and  had 
restless,  wakeful  nij^'us. 

"  Fretting  herself  ill  over  it,"  was  Mrs.  Giles's  comment ; 

"  she'll  be  better  when  she  gets  back  home." 

135 


The  Odd  One 


Nesta  Fairfax  came  down  to  see  her  little  favorite,  and 
Betty  shed  -    .ny  tears  on  her  knee. 

"  It's  no  good ;  I  shall  never,  never  be  happy  again!  No 
one  cares  for  me  like  Prince;  and  now  he's  dead  I've  no 
friend  left!" 

"  You  have  a  good  many  friends,  Betty.  Listen,  darling ; 
when  I'm  married  I'm  going  to  live  in  the  City,  and  you 
shall  come  and  stay  with  me  sometimes,  if  your  mother  will 
allow  it." 

"  When  are  you  going  to  be  married?  " 

"  Soon ;  but  we  shall  have  a  very  quiet  wedding,  or  I 
would  have  you  as  a  little  bridesmaid." 

Betty  shook  her  curly  head  mournfully.  "  It's  no  good ; 
my  heart  is  broken,  and  I  don't  want  to  stay  with  anybody 
or  do  anything." 

She  had  the  same  answer  to  any  one  who  tried  to  comfort 
her.  And  then  one  aftemo  .:  Mr.  Russell  appeared  on  the 
scene.  When  he  heard  trom  .lurse  how  matters  lay,  he  pro- 
posed that  Betty  should  come  and  stay  with  him  for  a  week. 
"  It  is  change  of  scene  and  atmosphere  that  she  wants.  Let 
me  take  her  back  with  me  at  once ;  my  housekeeper  will  take 
good  i^are  of  her."  And  this  was  managed,  and  Betty  walked 
away  with  him  quietly  and  contentedly. 

She  -..  IS  certainly  happier  roaming  through  his  big  house 
than  she  had  been  at  the  farm ;  but  there  seemed  to  be  some 
extra  weight  on  her  mind  that  she  would  not  reveal,  and  it 
was  not  until  the  first  Sunday  after  her  arrival  there  that  he 
discovered  the  cause. 

They  had  been  to  church  together,  had  waited  until  the 
congregation  had  dispersed,  and  stood  by  Violet's  monument. 
Betty  had  placed  some  fresh  roses  on  it,  and  as  they  were 
leaving  the  chiu-ch  she  said,  looking  back  wistfully : 

"  I  wish  Prince  had  been  buried  in  church ;  no  one  cares 
136 


Gmiforted 

about  his  grave!  I  put  flowers  on  it,  but  the  chickens  run 
through  the  orchard  and  scratch  them  off ;  and  one  day  the 
horrid  black  pig  was  grunting  with  his  nose,  and  making  a 
great  hole  in  it.  I  wish  he  could  have  a  tombstone!  No 
one  cares  a  bit,  and  they  almost  laugh  if  I  say  anything 
about  it." 

"  Is  that  what  is  troubling  you?  "  asked  Mr.  Russell,  kindly. 
"  That's  one  of  the  things,  but  not  the  big  thing." 
"  And  what  is  the  big  thing?  " 

Betty  was  silent ;  then  she  said,  "  I'll  tell  rt  to  you— p'r'aps 
this  afternoon." 

They  went  back  to  luncheon,  and  then  Mr.  Russell  took 
his  seat  in  the  shady  veranda  that  ran  round  the  house.  It 
was  a  still,  warm  afternoon.  Betty  got  a  stool,  and,  sitting 
down  on  it,  rested  her  head  against  the  knee  of  her  friend. 
Outside  the  bees  were  humming  round  the  roses  and  among 
the  bright  flower-beds  on  the  lawn ;  the  birds  were  twittering 
in  the  old  beeches  close  by ;  but  over  the  whole  acene  hung 
a  Sabbath  peace  and  repose. 

The  child  looked  away  ^o  the  soft,  distant  hills  and  the 
deep-blue  sky. 

"Shall  I  tell  you  what  I  promised?"  she  asked  at  last, 
bringing  her  sad  little  eyes  to  Mr.  Russell's  face. 

Mr.  Russell  nodded,  and  clutching  rather  ner\ously  at  his 
hand,  Betty  said  a  little  hurriedly,  "  Prince  has  always  been 
so  goo'1,  and  I've  talked  so  much  to  him  of  heaven,  and  he 
seemed  to  like  it;  and  I— well,  I  tried  to  teach  him  his 
prayers,  and  I've  prayed  to  God  for  him  every  night,  that  I 
thought  he  would  be  sure  to  go  to  heaven,  don't  you  think 
so?  But  I  was  reading  Revelation,  and  I  was  thinking  how 
perhaps  he  might  be  able  *  ing  in  heaven— perhaps  God 
would  give  him  a  proper  voice ;  for  Iirs.  Giles  told  me  she 
had  a  little  deaf  and  dumb  brother  once  who  died,  and  she 

137 


TheOdaOne 

said  he  would  be  given  a  voice  when  he  got  there.   And  then 
I  read  in  the  last  chapter— oh,  1  can't  tell  you!" 

Down  dropped  the  little  head,  and  a  burst  of  tears  came. 
Mr.  Russell  did  not  speak ;  he  got  up  and  went  inside  the 
house  io  get  a  Bible.     Coming  back,  he  spread  it  open  on 
his  knee  and  scanned  the  chapter  through. 

"  Well,"  he  said  at  length,  "  I  don't  see  your  trouble, 
Betty." 

"  It  says,"  sobbed  the  child,  "  that  dogs  will  be  outside 
heaven  with  all  the  wicked  persons  and  all  the  liars.  Prince 
was  never  wicked,  and  never,  never  told  a  lie.  I  can't  make 
it  out,  it's  so  dreadful!" 

Mr.  Russell  almost  smiled,  but  his  tone  was  as  grave  as 
usual  when  he  put  his  arm  round  Betty,  saying,  "  But,  my 
dear  child,  that  is  not  the  meaning  of  the  verse.  How  can 
I  explain  it  to  you?  let  me  try :  the  term  '  dog '  was  used 
by  the  Jews  to  express  anything  unclean,  despicable ;  the 
Palestine  dogs  were  wild,  savage  animals,  despised  and 
scouted  by  every  one ;  and  so  people  who  led  wicked  lives, 
without  any  right  feeling  or  principle,  are  compared  to  dogs." 

"Then  it  doesn't  mear  Prince?  He  may  be  in  heaven 
after  all  ?  Oh,  I  wish  I  had  asked  some  one  about  it,  but  I 
was  afraid!  Miss  Fairfax  said  once  he  had  no  soul;  but 
then  I've  asked  God  to  give  him  one,  and  God  can  do  any- 
thing, cen't  He?  Do  you  think  he  is  in  heaven?  O  Mr. 
Russell,  he  must  be  somewhere  1 " 

The  piteous  tone  went  right  to  Mr.  Russell's  heart.  He 
leaned  forward  and  lifted  Betty  on  his  knee. 

"  Betty,  do  you  love  God?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Very  much?" 

"  I  think  I  do,  and  I  feel  He  loves  me." 

"  I  think  you  do  too,  for  you  have  often  talked  to  me 
138 


Comforted 

about  Him,  and  you  have  taught  me  to  love  Him  too,  Betty. 
Now  you  must  trust  God  about  Prince.     I  can't  give  you  a 
text  in  the  IJil)le  to  tell  you  Prince  is  in  heaven,  but  God 
knows  all  about  your  little  sorrowful  heart.     You  tell  Him 
all  about  it,  and  be  at  rest.     There  are  times  when  we  go 
through  life  that  we  must  do  this ;  yes,  grown-up  men  and 
women,  Betty,  when  they  cannot  see,  and  struggle  to  undtr- 
stand  and  penetrate  the  unseen,  are  brought  down  umler 
God's  hand.    And  He  says  to  us,  '  I  have  done  this :  now  is 
the  time  to  trust  Me.'     '  Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am  God.' 
I  have  had  to  learn  this  lesson,  and  at  times  my  heart  has 
been  hard  and  bitter.    But  there!  why  am  I  talking  like  this 
to  you?     You  will  not  unilerstand." 

"  I  like  it,"  said  Betty,  lying  back  in  his  arms,  and  looking 
out  into  the  sunny  garden.  "  .\nd  I  may  think  what  I  like 
about  Prince  now,  mayn't  I  ?  I'm  (luite,  quite  sure  God  loves 
him.  God  loves  everybody,  even  the  wickedest  sinners,  and 
Prince  wasn't  a  wicked  dog  at  all." 

There  was  silence,  which  Betty  broke  at  last. 
"  1  like  being  here  witli  you,  because  you  talk  to  me  so 
differently,  and  I  feel  so  dreadfully  alone  at  the  farm.    Nurse 
said  you  were  a  single  gentleman,  nnd  your  servants  couldn't 
have  n^  ch  to  do.     I  tiuist  be  a  single  child,  I  feel.     And 
they  all  say  such  stupid  things  to  comfort  me.     Nurse  said 
he  would  have  had  to  die  sometime,  and  perhaps  if  I  had 
taken  him  back  to  the  City  he  would  have  got  run  over;  and 
Douglas  said  I  must  pretend  I  never  had  a  dog  called  Prince  ; 
and  Molly  told  me  that  Douglas  will  soon  be  going  to  school, 
and  then  she  and  I  will  be  a  couple ;  and  Mrs.  Giles  said  if 
Prince  hadn't  died  he  would  have  gone  raving  mad  and  bitten 
all  of  us,  and  made  us  raving  mad  too,  and  we  would  have 
all  been  shot,  and  we  must  be  thankful ;  and  Reuben,  the  old 
urave  man,  asked  me  if  I  didn't  tliank  God  that  the  mad 
**  139 


iMHaM 


The  Odd  One 


dog  didn't  bite  me ;  and  old  Jenny  said  perhaps  I  was  making 
an  idol  of  Prince,  and  so  he  was  taken  away.  How  could 
I  make  an  idol  of  him?  I  wouldn't  say  my  prayers  to  him 
instead  of  God!  You  wouldn't  be  comforted  to  have  those 
things  said  to  you,  would  you?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  should,"  said  Mr.  Russell,  smiling. 

"Mrs.  Fairfax  wanted  to  give  me  another  dog— a  little 
puppy ;  but  I  couldn't ;  I  couldn't  have  another  dog  when 
Prince  is  dead!  You  couldn't  have  another  Violet,  could 
you?  I  think  you  and  I  understand,  because  we've  now 
both  had  some  one  dead  belonging  to  us." 

Betty's  week  lengthened  into  three.  Mr.  Russell  seemed 
loath  to  part  with  her,  and  her  subdued  spirits  and  pathetic 
grief  touched  him  greatly.  But  the  visit  came  to  an  end  at 
last,  and  about  four  o'clock  one  bright  afternoon  the  dog-cart 
was  driven  round  to  take  her  home. 

"  You  shall  come  and  see  me  again,  Betty,"  said  Mr.  Rus- 
sell, brightly,  "  and  I  shall  come  and  see  you  when  I  am  in 
the  City.  I  used  to  be  at  college  with  your  father,  and  shall 
like  to  renew  his  acquaintance.  And  next  spring  you  ask 
your  mother  to  take  you  to  the  Academy,  where  all  the  pic- 
tures are.  I  think  you  will  see  a  white  statue  of  a  little  girl 
asleep  on  a  log  of  rood,  and  a—"     He  stopped. 

"  Anf'  Prince,"  put  in  Betty,  sadly.  "  I  sha'n't  bear  to 
look  ui  him,  and  yet  I  should  like  to.  I  don't  mind  going 
back  to  the  City.  I  thought  I  could  never  be  so  happy  any- 
where as  in  the  country,  but  I've  been  miserabler  than  I  ever 
was  at  home.    I  shall  be  miserable  now  for  ever  and  ever! " 

"  Betty,"  said  Mr.  Russell,  suddenly,  as  they  were  driving 
through  the  sweet-scented  lanes  toward  the  farm-house,  "  do 
you  remember  the  text  you  said  to  me  when  I  first  saw  you 
in  the  church,  and  you  were  putting  forget-me-nots  on  my 
darling's  tomb?  " 
140 


Comforted 

"  I  expect  it  was  my  tribulation  text,"  said  Betty,  musingly. 
"  Yes,  it  was.     You  told  me  you  were  unhappy  because 
you  had  not  been  through  tribulation ;  and  a  short  time  ago 
you  told  me  that  you  were  asking  God  to  send  you  tribula- 
tion, and  that  you  were  hoping  to  get  it  soon." 

"And  you  told  me  the  same  as  everybody  else,  that  I 
didn't  know  what  I  was  wishing  for.  But  I  did,  and  I  expect 
God  will  answer  it ;  for  old  Jenny  said  I  should  come  through 
it,  and  perhaps  I  wouldn't  have  to  wait  till  I  grew  up." 

"  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Russell,  slowly,  as  he  looked  down  at 
the  wistful  little  face,  "  that  God  has  been  answering  your 
prayer  already," 

Betty  looked  up  breathlessly.     "  How?  " 

"  I  think  He  has  sent  you  a  little  bit  of  tribulation  to  see 

if  you  can  bear  it,  and  if  you  will  be  a  good,  patient  child 

over  it,  and  not  keep  saying  you  will  never  be  happy  again." 

Such  a  flash  of  light  came  aero-  s  Betty's  face  and  into  her 

big  blue  eyes! 

"  Do  you  really  think  God  has  taken  away  Prince  to  give 
me  tribulation?  O  Mr.  Russell,  is  it  true— could  it  be?  Is 
this  coming  through  tribulation?  " 

Her  whole  face  was  quivering  with  intense  feeling. 
"  I  think  it  is  as  big  a  trouble  as  a  little  child  like  you  can 
be  called  upon  to  bear,"  said  Mr.  Russell,  drawing  her  close 
to  him ;  "  and  I  think  God  has  sent  it  to  you  for  some  good 
purpose." 

A  long-drawn  sigh  came  from  the  child,  and  not  another 
word  did  she  say;  but  when  nurse  and  the  other  children 
came  out  to  welcome  her  back,  they  were  all  surprised  to  see 
the  radiant,  happy  look  upon  her  face,  and  nurse  inwardly 
congratulated  herself  upon  the  good  her  visit  had  done  her. 
Mr.  Russell  received  a  fervent  kiss  and  hug  on  departing, 

and  Betty  came  back  to  her  own  circle  again. 

141 


.. 


rilHIIIi 


HIM 


The  Odd  One 

But  a  glad  surprise  awaited  her.  Douglas  and  Molly  were 
full  of  a  suppressed  mystery  all  tea-time,  and  when  it  was 
over  they  impatiently  begged  her  to  come  to  the  orchard. 
She  accompanied  them  willingly,  but  gave  a  cry  of  delight 
and  astonishment  when  she  reached  the  old  apple-tree.  There 
was  a  neat  little  iron  railing  surrounding  poor  Prince's  grave ; 
above  it  was  a  stone  pedestal,  and  upon  this  was  lying  the 
stone  figure  of  Prince  himself,  the  facsimile  of  the  portrait  of 
him  lying  at  Betty's  feet  when  she  was  fast  asleep  in  the  corn- 
field.    Below,  in  gold  letters,  was  written : 

To  THE  Memory  of  Prince 
If^o  gave  his  life  for  his  mistress,  i  ith  August,  i8— 

"  Mr.  Russell  had  it  put  up,"  said  Molly.  "  He  has  come 
over  several  times  about  it,  and  he  said  he  wanted  It  to  be 
kept  quite  a  secret  till  you  came  back.     Isn't  it  lovely?  " 

But  Betty  had  no  voice  to  answer;  tears  were  flowing 
freely,  and  when  Douglas  and  Molly  tri.;d  to  comfort  her, 
she  assured  them  it  was  only  because  she  was  so  happy. 
They  left  her  there  shortly  after,  and  she  stood  silent  for 
some  time ;  then  her  little  face  shone  again  with  a  soft  radi- 
ance, and,  kneeling  down  on  the  green  grass,  with  closed 
eyes,  she  bent  her  curly  head,  and  these  were  the  words  she 
uttered : 

"  O  God,  I  thank  you  for  answering  my  prayer  and  send- 
ing me  tribulation.  I  thank  you  that  I'm  in  the  text  at 
last!" 


142 


STORIES  OF  CHILDHOOD. 


BtUMtt  in  handsomely  decorated  elctk  eovers,  small 
4to,  illustrated,  each  jo  cents. 

How  the  CUMfcn  Raised  the  Wiai,     By  Edna 
Lyall,  author  of  "  Doreen,"  "  Donovan,"  "  We 
Two,"  etc.     Illustrated  by  Mary  A.  Lathbury. 
with  her  accustomed  humor,  the  distinRuished  author   1 
relates  how  two  children  by  methods  as  >» "»"'/"«''' J 
wCTe  unusual,  "raised  the  wind"  to  pay  oH  a  debt  on  i 
their  father's  church.  I 

Addpli,  and  How  He  Found  the  "  Beautiful  Udy." 
By  Fannie  J.  Taylor.     Illustrated  by  Helene  Toer- 

A  touchinir  story  of  the  devotion  of  a  poor  German 
Immigrant  and  h«  ion  Adolph  to  a  little  gfrl,  who.  com- 
WtoSuTi^tty  on  a  cholera-Uden  ship,  was  Uken  from 
h«  m^«  by  the  health  officers,  and  togeUier  with 
Adolph  and  many  others,  placed  in  the  hospital.  O^ 
to  a  mlstoke  in  Identity  she  was  reported  to  have  died, 
and  Adolph's  mother,  though  ?«"'/ P«"""«»*.v*4.h?M^ 
h«  The  story  turns  on  the  boy's  efforU  to  find  the  child  • 
mother,  the  "  Beautiful  Lady. 
The  Making  of  a  Hero»  and  Other  Stories  for  Boys. 
By  Mrs.  George  A.  Paull,  author  of  "  Prince 
Dimple,"  etc    Illustrated  by  G.  W.  Bonte. 

Six  stirring  stories  of  real,  live,  everyday  hoyj-jho  ^» 
the  *in|il^  boys  do  in  real  life.  '^  .t'^J^^^'^l^Jl?^^ 
what  they  do  in  books-and  nowhere  else.  The  tules  are  i 
The  Makine  of  a  Hero.  A  Matter  of  Honor.  How  At 
T^rins  wJ!nt  to  the  Fair!  Apron-Strings,  An  Amateur  De- 
tectlve.  and  The  Old  Fort. 

**Prohabk  Sons.'*    By  the  author  of  "  Eric's  Good 

News."    Illustrated. 

A  little  child  fascinated  by  the  story  of  the  Prodigal 

Son,  whom  SisSSs  the  "  Axibable  Son."  is  the  mean. 

of  helping  several  wanderers  to  return  to  the  Father-* 

llOflUC*  _ 

Fleming  H.  Revell  Company 

Mkw  YoRiu  in  Fifth  Ave.       Chicago:  63  WashlngtonSt. 
Toronto:  140*  i4»Yonge  St. 


.L 


Ba^MWHHH 


BBm 


iSBi 


Attractive  Booklets 


/tfmo,  dtcoraied  p«P#r.   ««;*.  ••<•   "^ 
dowta,  aM,  $1.00. 

"God's  Box."    A  Home  Missionary  Epl«)de.    By 
Mabel  Nelson  Thurston.    lUustrat«l.  „ 

Expectation  Co.ner  ;  or,  "Is  Your  Door  Open? 
By  E.  S.  Elliott.  . 

The    Seventh    Commandment.     By    Rer.    Jame. 
Sulker,  D.D.  _     ,. 

TEMrrATioN.    A  Talk   to  Young   Men.    By   Rer. 
James  Stalker,  D.D.  _ 

The  Dew  of  Thy  Youth.  By  Rev.  J.  R.  MUlW.D.D. 

How  "r  BECOME  A  CH..sT..^N.    By   Rev.   Lyman 

Tr-F^E  MEN.    By  Rev.  James  SuU«r  D.D 

.^AoX^nrM^erSyMe^^f^^^^^^ 
Hope-  The  Last  Thing  in  the  World.    By  Rev.  A. 

^T«Tk'stt'!;.nc  .n  T„EWoEt.D;   or.the  Primacy 
ofValth'.'ByRev.A.J.Gordon^D.U. 

•^X^.  rRev°orge°^.^^nrb.D^ 
Power  From  on  High.    By  Rev.  B.  Fay  MUls. 
How  TO  LEARN  How.    By  Prof.  Henry  Dru«n.ond 
ThI Perfected  L.fe:     The  Gr^test  Need  of  the 

Woti".    By  Prof.  Henry  Drummond. 
Love  The  Supreme  G.ft:   TheGrwtest  Thing  in 

thV World.    By  Prof.  Henry  Drimmond. 
The  Last  Paces  of  an  Officers  D.arv. 

THESTART.EDS.W.N0S0C.ETV.  E.  ^^"^L  ;^j"^ 

Wanted-Antiseftic   Christians.    By   Maud    BaW 
lington  Booth. 

Fleming  H.  ReveU  Compai*y 

New  York  :  iia  Fifth  Ave. 
Chicago:  63  Washington  St. 
Toronto  :  140  4  14a  Yonge  St. 


